
"Okay, kid. I'll give it to ya'h one more time," the man's lips smacked when he spoke, punctuating the words with sharp consonants. "So there I was, strung up by the heels, you know? It must've been three, four days. Who knows? Could'uh been a week." He grinned for a moment, glancing back at the girl. "And I was gettin' mighty hungry, and this place was a little matchbox of a place on the top of some old apartment building. Four walls, a locked door, and a half-dozen holes for the rats." His plastered-on grin widened slightly. "So I scooped one of 'em up and bit its head clean off. Now, whenever I'm 'round there, I see the varmints scatter before I get to close."
The girl stopped, staring at streetlights and cars as the sun began to crawl behind a building. "But what do the rats eat?"
(lol, 1000 posts.)



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