Chapter 38.5

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Another night, another victim.


        Jeff the Killer felt IMMENSELY satisfied with himself for yet another successful night. He'd targeted a single bitch, and killed her in one fell swoop. He chuckled to himself as he pressed his body against a tree, peering out as he watched police cruisers race down the street.


        "Good night?" a voice asked beside him.


        "Yeah, managed to kill—" Suddenly he stopped and whirled around, knife at the ready, but found his arms quickly blocked and raised above his head. Inches from his face was a blue mask, black tears painted dripping from the eyeholes.


        "Bad reaction time," his assailant commented, and Jeff's scowl faded as he recognized the man.


        "Eej!" he said, his perpetual grin widening as he gave an actual smile. "Long time no see! Where've you been?"


        "It's a long story," Jack replied, releasing Jeff's wrists and stepping back. "I'm here because I need a favor."


        "Aw, it's never pleasure visits for you, is it? You know what they say... 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'" Jeff chuckled at his little joke, while Jack just sighed and wished he had eyes so he could roll them.


        "Yeah, yeah. But you owe me for taking care of... down there." Jack pointed towards the crotch of Jeff's pants and the killer's paper white cheeks reddened.


        "I thought you promised to never talk about that," he hissed.


        "And I'm not," Jack said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But you still owe me." Jeff glowered at him and sighed.


        "Fine. Who do I need to kill?"


        "No killing." Jeff looked at him in surprise.


        "No killing? Then what the fuck do you want me to do!?"


        "I want you to be my taste-tester." The simple statement earned an incredulous stare, and a tilt of the head.


        "...What?"



        An hour later found the killers in the kitchen of Jeff's hideout, Jeff sitting at the table. "Still don't see why you're making regular food," Jeff commented. Not that he was complaining, free meals were always welcome.


        "Doesn't matter. Not any of your business." Jack set a bowl of steaming soup on the table in front of the smiling killer. Steam rose directly into his face, making him cover his eyes.


        "...Dude, you made it WAY too hot."


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