"I'm not like my brother," Bram spat out, looking at Daphne's still figure with pure hatred in his eyes.
The moment he turned over, Daphne closed her eyes, pretending to still be unconscious. She tried to steady her breathing, to not panic, but it was getting distinctively harder since she could feel Bram's piercing gaze on her body. It wasn't in the leering way his brother or Clive had done so, but rather, this one felt murderous.
"Or like that disgusting waste of a human being, Clive. They crave all the wrong things in life by thirsting for the pleasure of the flesh. That was why they met their demise."
The old tavern master was silent, watching as the lunatic paced back and forth. His boots clicked against the creaky wooden floors, resonating loudly through the empty space.
"My sort of fun will just be them bleeding, struggling, twisting like a worm in an attempt to stay alive," Bram slowly said.
