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February 9 - February 11, 2025
For those of you who read the trigger warnings and said, “Accidental cannibalism?! Count me in!”This one’s for you.
Being a serial killer who kills serial killers is a great hobby … Until you find yourself locked in a cage. For three days. With a dead body. In the Louisiana summer. With no air conditioning.
“Oh my God. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong. It had to be a woman. The Orb Weaver! Such a cool name. The intricate fishing line, the fucking eyeballs. Amazing. I’m such a huge fan.”
The Orb Weaver. I’m sitting across the table from the fucking Orb Weaver. And she’s fucking beautiful.
“I didn’t gouge them out, Butcher. I plucked them. Delicately. Like a lady.”
“That woman you were watching …?” My fingers tighten around his throat as he desperately nods. “She is mine.”
“You’re all the best things to me, Sloane. No matter how many bruises are in your heart or on your skin.”
“Something caught your eye, pretty boy?” I whisper. “Yes,” he says, his voice pained. “God, yes, Sloane. All of you.”
“I would kill for you, and I have. I would do it again, every damn day. I’d turn myself inside out for you. I would die for you. I don’t just like you, Sloane, and you fucking know it.”
Maybe I was right. We’re not normal people. We are monsters. But if we’re monsters, we’ll thrive in the dark. Together.

