Page 5 of The Cute Psycho

In the last few years I'd learned to control myself better, and I'd made a promise to my father that the only men to die by my hand would be the ones with a death warrant over their heads.

In return, he'd offer me any bodies he could spare to satisfy my morbid curiosity.

He doesn't realize though, that it's not onlymycuriosity, but Vanya's too. We share the same obsession with how things work... what makes humans tick. And we enjoy our time dissecting and discussing the insides of a corpse.

Vanya's not only my twin. She's my partner in crime. And however much my parents may be against my sisters coming near me for fear of their safety, Vanya's never been one to let others dissuade her when she's made up her mind. And we've already been inseparable since birth.

But while she may be just as deviant as I, she's also the more humane of the two. The only one who can ground me when I feel my control slipping.

I may have promised my father not to kill his men, but that doesn't mean it's easy for me. It's not a conscious decision when it happens. It'smore like a compunction. One word from Vanya, though, and I comply.

I move out of my chair to assess Marcello's work from up close, noting some marks of hesitation.

"What's gotten into you?" I narrow my eyes as I survey the jagged lines. Lines that any other time would be perfectly straight.

Marcello's not looking at me. He's staring into the pool of blood on the ground, his expression a mix of regret and melancholy.

"Don't tell me you've gone all soft." I tilt my head to study him.

The messier the work, the harder it's going to be for me to salvage something out of the body. And it's completely unlike Marcello.

He grumbles something under his breath, taking a step back and heading toward the makeshift bathroom. Turning the faucet on, he splashes some water onto his face.

I'm getting impatient, and Vanya will, too, if we don't end this soon. I'd already promised her the afternoon, and she always throws a fit when I don't fulfill my promises.

Marcello quietly steps back into the room, his head hung low. I stifle the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"My sister," he starts, and I turn to face him, surprised at his words. "It's my sister's birthday. She'll be three today."

"I didn't know you had a sister," I simply state. I've never seen Marcello like this... full of unknown emotions.

It's a state I can't deal with.

"Had... that's a good way of putting it," he says with a bitter laugh.

I frown, confused.

"I don't even know her name," he continues, sighing deeply before plopping himself on a chair.

I move closer. Marcello threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly looking tired and much older than his age.

I may not empathize with his feelings, but I do know what Vanya means to me, and a world without her would be completely bleak.

"What happened to her?" I don't know what prompts me to ask him that, since I should just ignore him and go about my day. Somehow, though, my curiosity gets the best of me.

"She's in a convent... she's better off there. I still wish..." He shakes his head, getting up and moving toward the door.

I purse my lips, trying to identify what's happening with Marcello and how I can help him get back to his normal working capacity. We are a team after all, and one half doing a poor job will affect the entire whole.

Just as I'm going through all the possibilities, the door to the basement opens to reveal my father. He's dragging in two battered bodies with him.

"Your lucky day, son," my father says and winks at me as he throws the bodies to the ground.

Lucky indeed.

Marcello's issue is firmly forgotten as I look at the newest additions to the torture room.

"Permission?" I ask, needing to know what Icanandcannotdo.

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