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You’ll be the greatest ever, Jasper. They’ll never catch you. You’ll be the new boogeyman parents use to scare their kids into behaving. You’ll make everyone forget Speck and Dahmer and even Jack the Goddamn Ripper. My boy. My boy.
Even if he turned out not to be a stone-cold killer like Dear Old Dad, he still was a guy with a brain-load of problems.
Gramma was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy—and hate and crazy don’t weigh anything.
Fear can keep you alive. The trick is not to let it overwhelm you. Not to let it rule you. If you’re afraid, that’s the universe trying to tell you something. Get away. Don’t run; don’t panic. Just pick up and walk out, calm as you please. Panic makes you stupid.
He grinned. Here he was, son of the world’s most notorious serial killer, afraid of the dark. What was next: the boogeyman? The monster in the closet? Gremlins under the bed?
I don’t need a protégé. Already got one. Sure you are. You just ain’t killed no one yet.
You show any weakness to a serial killer and they live inside you after that.
