The Devil's Nurse
“Donna… like a little housewife. You know how to be a good housewife, Donna?”
I ignored him. Something about him reminded me of David Vance. But the colder and dangerous version.
He stood, slow and clumsy, and staggered toward me. I stepped back. He reached out anyway, grabbing my chin with two fingers.
“You smell scared.”
“I’m not, sir.”
“Good,” he said, breath hitting my face like rot. “Because I don’t like screamers unless I’m the one making them scream.”
I didn’t blink. I didn’t break.
But I made a promise right then.
Bab Populer