First Chapter - Five A Novella by Dan Harary

Meet Billy Sorrows, the gifted young singer who makes women cry...

An orphan living in 1860s London, Feival Vados, has been taken in by an ogre of a man after the young boy’s parents—famed Hungarian actors—perish in a mysterious fire. When ten-year-old Feival, nicknamed “Five,” is summoned to the deathbed of his charge, the heinous old man orders the young boy to become his sin-eater. What Five learns that day will change the course of his adult life, giving rise to a monstrous thirst that even his own death does not quench.

One hundred years later, young Boston native Billy Simon, a music prodigy, makes his way into Manhattan, where he is soon discovered. Through the machinations of his legendary talent agent, Billy quickly becomes a pop music superstar. However, after Billy’s beloved girlfriend is brutally murdered by one of his female fans, he is devastated to his core. Billy’s overwhelming sorrow leads him to commit a series of brutal murders, mysteriously connecting him to the late Feival Vados in ways the gifted singer/songwriter could never possibly come to understand.

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PART ONE:
London, England 1865

“For the love of bleedin’ Christ, where is that bastard Five, Vivian?” Nigel Broadbury screamed.

A large, portly woman who looked every bit of her 83 years, Vivian Broadbury was, for all intents and purposes, a slave to her husband, Nigel. Married well over 60 years, she’d grown accustomed to obeying his every command—most of them repulsing her—but she knew better than to ignore his demands. Nigel, a massive ogre at six feet three inches who weighed more than 270 pounds, was a monster of his own gluttonous appetites.

“I’ve called out for ‘im three times already, dear!” Vivian yelled to her husband, who now lay dying in the backroom of their Victorian cottage. “I thought he would have been here by now. I’ll go fetch ‘im.”

Vivian grabbed her well-worn shawl, wrapped it about her shoulders, then left through the front door. A light rain was falling and, as she walked, she repositioned the garment to protect her head. Countless horse-drawn wagons and carts were scurrying their wares down the cobblestone road just in front of her home, going to and returning from the various shops that lined Bread Street. “Five! Five!” she shouted into the air, over and over again, clearly surprised that the object of her interest had not yet responded.

“Here, Mrs. Broadbury! Coming!” Feival Vadas, a handsome boy of 10, was trotting toward Vivian from the opposite end of Bread Street, stopping several times to pick up his cap after it had flown off into the road. An orphan for the past five years, Feival lived in the storage room at the back of “Baked by Broadbury,” the small but popular bakery owned by Nigel and Vivian located just a few hundred yards away. There, he worked and lived, sleeping on a thin, moldy, yet not entirely uncomfortable, mattress.

Out of breath, the young lad finally arrived just inches from the large woman’s heaving bosom.

“Is it time?” Feival anxiously asked Vivian.

“Yes, Five, I’m afraid so. We’re likely just a few hours away. Come along now… follow me,” she replied. The duo walked back toward the Broadbury residence at a quick pace. “Are you sure you really want to do this, son? You know, it’s not too late to change your mind,” the woman said.

“No, Mrs. Viv, I’m ready. I promised him last year that I would be there for him when the time came. A man is only as good as his promise.”

The elderly woman smiled at Five admirably. “You’re a good lad, Feival. Your parents would ‘ave been proud of ya. I only wish my Nigel actually deserved someone as pure and golden-hearted as you.”

Vivian and Feival entered the Broadbury residence and shut the front door. “Five! Fer God’s sake, get yer ass in here, boy!” Nigel boomed. Feival removed his coat and hat and handed them to Vivian, who gently placed them on the coat rack prominently displayed near the front door.

Vivian approached Five and placed her hands on either side of his face. “Whatever happens in there, Five, I just want you to know, it will be solely between YOU and ‘im, alright? I do not want to ever know a thing he tells ya. I’ve had to put up with his nonsense long enough—I don’t need his demons following me ‘cross to the other side when I pass! Understood?”

Feival nodded his head in agreement. The boy then left the front room and slowly and cautiously entered Nigel Broadbury’s back bedroom. “Come ‘ere, boy, lemme get a good look at ya!” the man bellowed.

The very instant Five walked into that room, he gagged, taken aback for a moment by the putrid smell of urine and feces. He saw old man Broadbury laying in his bed, atop the covers, wearing vomit-stained nightclothes and a long, beanie nightcap. “Pull up that chair, boy, and bring it round ‘ere,” the old man instructed.

Five gently slid an old, rickety wooden chair next to the elderly man’s bed, and sat. “Is it time, Mr. B? Is it really time?” the lad asked.

“Didja really think I’d ‘ave had the old cow chase after ya down the street if it weren’t?” Nigel responded. Feival noticed the old man was being even more sarcastic than usual.

“Don’t mind me, boys,” Vivian said as she entered the rancid bedroom carrying a tray of freshly baked cakes, breads, and pastries. “For later,” she whispered to Feival. “He’ll tell ya when.” The woman left as quickly as she’d arrived.

“Now listen here, boy, and listen up well. You’re gonna ‘ave to pay real close attention to what I’m telling ya – so don’t ya go interrupting me with any stupid questions or anything, ya hear? I’ve gotta make my peace with the Almighty today—here and now—in this stink hole. And yer my witness. My salvation.” Nigel went into a coughing fit, spitting out dark green, bloody phlegm into a hideous handkerchief.

“You, Feival Vados, are what’s gonna give me a fightin’ chance of walking through them pearly gates upstairs,” Nigel whispered. “Yer gonna eat my sins.” His eyes were closed.

“Yes, I understand,” Five replied, although he truly did not. “And then I get to eat food, right?”

Nigel shook his head in dismay. “Is that all ya ever think about, boy? Eatin’?”

“I’m always hungry,” Five whispered.

“Yes… agreed. You listen to my tales and sit yer ass still. And when I’m done talkin’ and kick off, ya can eat all my wife’s goods,” Nigel confirmed. “As much as that angry belly of yours can manage.”

Five pulled his chair up closer to the old man’s bedside. “I’m ready now, sir. I’m all yours.”

Nigel took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then exhaled. “It ain’t a pretty picture, boy,” he whispered. “My life… ain’t been pretty. No one in the world knows what I’m about to tell ‘ya. Not even the Missus. She’d shit her knickers if she knew.” Nigel’s voice trailed off, as the dying man once again closed his eyes.

“’As ya know, boy, I’m a baker… down at the shop. Where ya live at. Been there a long time. Best in London… the best anywhere. Everyone came to buy my goods. Rich and poor alike. I think yer parents came into the shop once too, ‘ya know. Before the fire, of course.”

“Yes, sir,” Five whispered back. “Mrs. Vivian told me that, a long while back.”

“Ah, Mrs. Vivian. I met that old cow when I was 22—a child who married the first woman he ever fucked. We were ‘appy for a while, till our son, Charles, died in his crib. The doctor never could explain that. Vivian changed right then—mourned for years. Sat in ‘er rocker and mourned. Wouldn’t touch me no more. That was the end of any romance for yer old friend, Nigel Broadbury.”

Five’s face showed rapt attention. He had no idea what the man was talking about, nor where this conversation was going. But he appeared to be fascinated by the dying man’s confession.

“Well, Five, when you’re a bit older you’ll understand… a man has needs. A man needs to be loved by a woman… he’s gotta stick his hard, red cock into a woman’s wet, smell ‘ole. Some men need to be loved by MANY women. It turns out, I was one of those. After my son’s death, I was lonely—painfully lonely, boy. I started greetin’ the prettiest women who came into my shop with free vanilla cakes. I’d swing ‘round the front counter and greet them proper. Sometimes I’d caress their bums with my hands, and ya know what? Most of them responded! We’d be starting to romance, right then and there, in the front of my shop! I’d lock the front door and bring ‘em round into the back. Their ‘oles was wet and ready. I pounded ‘em, boy, lemme tell ‘ya. Everyone of ‘em. I pounded ‘em good and hard.”

“’Oles?” Feival asked, clueless.

“Good God, boy, don’t ya know noting ‘bout womens’ ‘oles? It’s what makes men men. ‘oles is what makes the world go ‘round. Fucking, boy! Vaginas! The power of the ‘ole! Ain’t ya never ‘eard about no fucking?”

Feival stared blankly at Nigel, clearly ignorant of whatever the hell it was the old man was revealing to him.

Nigel realized he was talking to an innocent. “Never mind that right now, boy,” he softened. “You’ll learn ‘bout that stuff soon enough, I suppose.”

The old man reached over to the small night table next to the head of his bed and took a sip of water.

“Now, where was I?”

“You was pounding ‘oles,” Feival naively replied.

“Right, right… alright. So, like I was telling ya… women ‘round here, dozens of ‘em in fact, used to come into my shop late afternoons to see me. Vivian would be ‘ere at the house, crying for Charles, while I’d be banging the shit out of as many ‘oles as I could manage. Seems I had a knack for making the ladies cry with joy.” Nigel smiled briefly, appearing to relish the memories of his salad days as a ladies’ man who thrived by cheating on his long-suffering wife.

“Then one day, Five, this very pretty miss, Rachel ‘er name was, come in and told me I’d gotten ‘er pregnant. ‘er baby was already showing in ‘er belly and I knew right away it was mine. I realized that if Vivian ever found out about this, it would break ‘er heart all over again. And the one thing I w’on’t never gonna do was push Vivian out in the street. I married ‘er till death do us part, ya know. That’s a sacred vow, boy. That’s when I came up with a plan… with Rachel. She was the first…” The old man’s voice trailed off.

“The first what?” Five asked.

“The first woman I kill’t,” came the quiet reply.

Feival’s face registered shock. “Close the door, boy, ain’t wanting to have the old sow ‘earing any of this,” Nigel commanded. The young lad did so, then returned to his chair.

“I ‘ad no choice, Five, do you understand that? There was no chance I could let another woman spit out my baby—not while Vivian was still alive. I took Rachel into the back room of the shop, and told ‘er to take a seat. When she w’on’t looking, I snuck behind ‘er and strangled ‘er… right with these bare hands.” Nigel thrust his hands out in front of his torso, as though reliving the moment.

“Squeezed the fucking life outta ‘er. And my baby! She never saw it coming. I didn’t have no choice. I knew I ‘ada get her outta my life, quickly. That was the only way I knew how.”

Feival sat in stone silence. A chill ran up the back of his neck… an eerie feeling he’d never experienced before. But he knew he had to remain still and simply absorb this revolting horror, made even more ironic by the fact that his stomach was growling for Vivian Broadbury’s wondrously smelling cakes, just feet away.

“Now, ya got a body… a pregnant woman’s body, no less,” Nigel continued. “What ya supposed to do with it? Where do ya put it so ain’t no copper’s gonna ask no questions and learn my secrets?” He paused for a moment.

“Ya know William Asbury’s pig farm out in Watford, lad?”

“No sir, Mr. Broadbury. I ain’t familiar with that one,” Feival replied.

“We’ve been friends since we was kids. Went to grade school together. One night late I borrowed a buggy from a customer, tossed Rachel’s nekked body into the back, and drove ‘er up to Watford. Quiet as a mouse, I was. Didn’t want William or ‘is family to know I was there. Dumped poor Rachel into the biggest pen… a dozen ‘ungry pigs inside. Quick, covered ‘er up with some mud and grass and made sure them little monsters knew she was there. Moonlight, it was. Waited for a bit ‘til I saw this one beast – this real nasty brute of a pig, made his way over to ‘er. Seemed to like ‘er titties… that’s what he started eatin’ first, anyway!” Nigel laughed, then burst into a coughing fit.

“After, I drove the buggy back to the shop and slept there that night. No one ever knew a thing about it. She ain’t ‘ad no family. No one else ever saw us together. The missus never ‘ad a clue. Next time I saw my friend William Asbury, he told me he was getting top money for ‘is fat, ‘appy pigs!” Nigel once again laughed out loud.

Feival didn’t. His repulsion was melded in with his hunger. “Mr. B, sir, ain’t there some chance I could have a bite—just one bite—of the missus’ butter cake? I’m so hungry.”

Nigel made a face expressing a bit of disgust. “Well, since ‘ya ain’t paying no attention to me stories, boy, yeah, go on, take a coupla bites. But hurry up about it!”

Five almost literally flew off his chair, approached the tray Mrs. Broadbury had brought in earlier, and shoved the biggest slice of butter cake into his face. Crumbs flew from between his fingers and mouth as his ancient patron shook his head back and forth in disgust.

“Alright, boy… enough now. There’ll be plenty ‘a time later after I’m gone to eat. I need yer ass back in that chair, ya ‘ear me, lad?”

Five finished wiping his mouth and silently returned to this chair. “Yes sir, Mr. Broadbury, sir. Thank you… fer letting me ‘ave a bite.”

Nigel took another sip of water, then repositioned himself in his bed, now sitting up a bit straighter. “I gotta lot more to tell ‘ya, boy. Things I ain’t shared with nobody ever before. Ya listening now? Ya gonna pay attention to what I’m telling ya here?”

“Yes, sir, I’m ready to listen,” Five said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Nigel rubbed his eyes. “So that woman I told ya about, Rachel. She was just the first. There’ve been others… other women I ain’t done right by. Ya gotta know the whole truth here, Feival. Ya gotta understand what the fuck it is I’m saying to ya ‘ere today. You’re my ticket, boy. My only hope. You’re my key into ‘eaven.”

Nigel lifted his body to one side and released a horrendously loud, wet-sounding fart. He chuckled. The smell was putrid.

Gagging, Feival did his best not to puke.

“Once I got away with killin’ Rachel and nobody finding out, I realized I was free to go on fucking as many ‘oles as I could find,” Nigel continued. “And if any of ‘em ladies got pregnant or threatened to tell Vivian about what I been doing, all I ‘ad to do was end ‘em. Like what I did with Rachel. The second woman I kill’t was Victoria. She was married and had three kids at home, but she ‘ated her husband. I knew that guy… a real prick, he was. Rich, good-looking shithead who couldn’t get ‘er up… at least that’s what she told me.”

“What’s ‘get ‘er up?’” Five asked. Nigel shook his head in disgust.

“Stop interruptin’ boy!” Nigel admonished his charge. “Now this Victoria… she was lookin’ for love… she needed her ‘ole plugged, and after I grabbed her bum one time in the shop, she grabbed my pants and told me she needed cock. Needed it bad. Again, I took ‘er into the back room and fucked ‘er silly. She was enjoying ‘erself, too, I should tell ‘ya. But while we was doing it, I got angry. Real angry. I started thinking, ‘What if this was my Vivian, fucking another man, just to get ‘er jollies?’ It was right then that I reached down and choked ‘er to death. Right then, while my cock was inside ‘er. I choked ‘er hard and watched ‘er last breath come out. She pissed all over my legs while she died. Funny thing… I didn’t mind. Kinda enjoyed it, in fact…”

Nigel’s voice trailed off as he gazed out his bedroom window. Feivel could clearly see that not only was the old man reliving these terrible moments from his life, but he was smiling while doing so.

“You liked killing ‘em, sounds like,” Feival said, bravely. “I ain’t met nobody before who kill’t people.”

“Five, you are young and naïve,” Nigel responded angrily. “You ain’t seen the world. You ain’t ‘ad to work hard to survive. You ain’t seen your own child die in front of ya. You ain’t even had yer dick inside a cunt-hole! Don’t you go judging me! You ain’t lived none yet!”

Realizing he was upsetting the man who stood between him and three days of delicious meals, Feival back-peddled. “Ain’t mean nothing ‘bout that, Mr. Broadbury, sir. I just was stating a fact. I wa’n’t judging ya or nothing.”

Nigel stared intently into Feival’s eyes. He then took a deep sigh. “Five… I know ya. You ain’t a bad kid. I just need ya to hear me out. Just listen. These secrets can’t stay hid when I die… they gotta come out into the air. Ain’t no chance of God gracing me with his presence if I knock on them pearly gates with these bloody ‘ands painted in sin.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Five whispered. “I’m ready to hear more… whatever ya need to tell me, I’m here.”

Nigel pulled at his scruffy beard for a few minutes—for so long, in fact, that the quiet filling the room became almost intolerable for young Feival. He’d rather have had the old man continue his terrible revelations, or even let loose a few more blasting farts, than have had to sit still in his confession chair, terribly confused by the overwhelming sound of this nerve-wracking silence.

“Desiree was the third woman I strangled,” Nigel finally stated, matter-of-factly. “She was a French lady visiting London up from Paris. Young… maybe 17 or 18. Pretty… real pretty. She was staying with ‘er cousins down the street ‘ere and just came into my shop for some fresh biscuits. I was smitten with ‘er at first sight, Five. My ‘eart was beatin’ fast and my cock was talking to me. I gave ‘er two biscuits for free… sat with ‘er while she ate ‘em… and she told me she was an actress. Like yer parents was, boy. She came to perform at the Theatre Royal on Drury Lane. Was gonna audition that next day, she was. You probably know’d already she didn’t make it…” The old man’s voice trailed off.

“What’d she do to make ya need to kill ‘er?” Feival asked innocently. “Couldn’t you just ‘ave fucked her ‘ole and let her be?”

Nigel sighed. “I would ‘ave, Five,” the old man confessed. “I ain’t had nothing against her. I made my move on ‘er to go fuck, but she started screaming. She told me she w’an’t interested. But that w’an’t gonna stop me, I’ll tell ‘ya. I plugged that ‘ole and she made a real bloody mess on my floor. Yelling she was a virgin and she needed to save ‘erself for her ‘usband. I can’t fuck no ole if the body it’s attached to is screaming at me. I hit her over the ‘ead… with a milk can. Shut ‘er up, right quick, I’ll tell ya. Then my cock finished ‘is business. After, I ‘id ‘er body ‘til night fall. Then I borrowed another ‘orse and carriage for a few ‘ours and took ‘er out to Daw Mill in the West Midlands. Hid ‘er in a big coal pile. Ain’t sure if nobody ever found ‘er. I ain’t ever ‘eard one way or another.”

Feival quickly stood from his chair, retrieved an empty bowl perched atop Nigel’s dressing table, and proceeded to vomit. The boy wasn’t sure if it was the stories or the smells in this room of horrors that caused him to puke. Fortunately, his revulsion subsided quickly. Five grabbed a filthy handkerchief from atop the same table, and wiped off his mouth.

“Yer a child, boy,” Nigel scolded his charge. “An innocent. Ya need to toughen up, Five. How else ya gonna make it out there in the real world?”

“So sorry, Mr. B., I didn’t mean to…” Feival’s voice trailed off. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and saw himself. He instantly felt ashamed and embarrassed at his predicament. But as he’d given the old man and his wife his word, he had no choice but to remain seated until this unbelievable nightmare finally ended.

“Lemme know when ya gonna hurl again, so I can look the other way next time,” Nigel mocked. “That was revoltin’ boy! Ya gotta grow a pair, Feival. Ya gotta thicken up that skin of yours. Life’s gonna throw you a ton of shit as you get older. Ya need to get strong… to take whatever comes yer way and figure it out. Ya can’t be puking up yer guts every time somethin’ comes along that ain’t pretty like what ya want it to be.”

“I understand,” Five said. “You’re right. You’re trusting me to do a job. To listen to ya and let ya confess yer sins before your end. I ain’t gonna let you down, Mr. Broadbury. You and yer missus been kind to me a long while now. Since the fire. Ya took me in and gave me a room with a bed and let me work for my meals. Ya been good to me, Mr. B. I’m sorry…”

Nigel studied the young boy’s face closely and noticed that a tear was running down his check. “Ya ain’t cryin’ now, are ya, boy? Wot, are ya, a sissy bitch?”

“Sorry,” Five repeated.

Nigel shook his head back and forth and chuckled. “Ya gonna remember ME, boy! I’ll tell ya that much. When I’m gone, ya gonna remember ME a long time!”

“I’m ready, now,” Feival said. “I’m ready to ‘ear the rest. I won’t cry no more.”

“After I kill’t Desiree, I started going to see them plays at the Theatre Royal,” Nigel continued. “Figured if a pretty girl like ‘er was gonna perform there, probably was lots more just like ‘er. I went in every coupla months… cost a pretty penny but ‘em young girls in there singing like birds made me feel ‘appy. Looking at them fresh, bouncing titties and tight little bums waltzing ‘round the stage was enough to make an old man feel alive again.

“Went round back of the stage one night… watching the actors leaving the theatre after one of ‘em shows. They was all ‘appy and smiling and lookin’ like they was sitting atop the world. Then, one night… there was this one couple – this man and this woman—they was ‘oldin’ ‘ands and didn’t ‘ave a care in the world. Right then, I got angry, Five. Real angry. ‘ow come them two was so fuckin’ ‘appy and I w’on’t? I never went round smilin’ and singin’ and lookin’ like there w’on’t no stink on my shit. So I followed ‘em. This man and this woman. I followed ‘em. They went walkin’ ‘cross town fer about ‘alf an hour. I walked far behind ‘em. Quiet. Silent. Wantin’ to see where they lived. What they was gonna do next.

“They got to their ‘ouse on New Queen Street. I saw ‘em walk inside and start kissin.’ I stood out the window, watching. Well, I’ll tell ya, boy, I was getting’ pissed, I mean good and bloody pissed. The lady was taking down her clothes and the man got on his knees and then you know what he did?! He started kissing her ‘ole! Can you imagine that, boy?! He was kissin’ her ‘OLE! Ain’t never saw nothing like that before. Made me sick, actually. I puked up onto the street. W’on’t right. That ain’t nothing no man’s supposed to do with a wet smell ‘ole!”

“Now I’m mad, Five, real, real mad. Disgusted and mad. Was a tavern two blocks away. I went in there and bought a cigar. The bar man lit it for me. Good cigar, it was, too. Ran back to that ‘ouse. Now, I’m watching ‘em two fucking, I mean, really hard, solid fucking! First time I ever seen people fucking that w’on’t me! That woman was so beautiful… I mean, Five, the most beautiful titties I ever seen in all my life. And this lucky bastard was fuckin’ her. I went green, Five. Crazy jealous green. I took my cigar and walked ‘round that ‘ouse, startin’ small fires in the bushes that lined the buildin’. Went round the ‘ouse five times, making sure ‘em fires took ‘old. Then, I broke off a tree branch–a thick one–and shoved it in front of the door so w’on’t no way ‘em two could leave the ‘ouse.

“I looked through the window one last time, and saw ‘em again. Sleeping. They fucked so ‘ard they passed out to sleep. I laughed. Out loud, it was. I knowed ain’t no way ‘em two was gonna be able to leave. By the time the fires le’pt cross from the bushes into the building, was too late. The place went up, quick. Real quick. Now, I seen the man through the window trying to wake up that beautiful whore of his, but the smoke was so thick he couldn’t do it. He tried to open the front door, but that tree branch won’t let ‘em do nothing.

“I watched ‘em both die, boy. Those fuckin’ ‘appy actors thinking they was better than me… better than anyone else. I took ‘em out of this world, Feival. I didn’t want ‘em breathin’ the same air as me. Was about five years back…”

And just then, a look of inexplicable revelation crept across the entirety of Feival’s face. “My parents?” he asked, astonished. “You kill’t MY PARENTS?”

And without the least bit of remorse, Nigel responded, “Yeah, boy, that was me. I did that. When I saw through the window ‘em two had a little kid walking through that ‘ouse, I broke through the back door and pulled ya out. I saved yer life, boy! Why’dja think I took ya in, gave ya a room and a job and food? I saved ya, lad! Ya w’on’t be alive today without me! Ya should be grateful!”

Five sat in stunned silence. He simply could not accept what he’d just heard.

“You was my new ‘Charlie,’ boy,” Nigel whispered. “You was the new son re-placin’ the one me and Vivian lost. That’s why we been so good to ya, lad. My real son died, so instead I found you!”

Suddenly angry beyond reason, Feival Vados leapt off his chair and jumped atop Nigel Broadbury. Stunned by the boy’s brazen reaction, Nigel resisted for a moment, at first, as Feival reached around the dying man’s thick neck, and began choking him with passion.

“Murderer!” Feival screamed, his entire body trembling with both fright and overwhelming passion. Although he was just ten, the adrenaline pouring through his veins had suddenly given him the power of five men.

Truly surprised, Nigel managed to squeak out, “What the fuck ya doing, boy? You ain’t supposed to kill me! Only God can do that. After all I done for ya, boy? This is ‘ow you repay me?”

And just as Vivian Broadbury unexpectedly entered the room, Nigel exhaled one last time, directly into Feival’s open mouth. The old man’s face then turned purple, and he went silent. Five turned his head to the right, horrified that he’d been caught. “It’s alright, dear boy,” Vivian whispered. “It’s what I was ‘oping was gonna ‘appen. You did ‘em right. You did me right, too.” The old woman turned and silently left the death scene.

Feival stood, wiping tears from his eyes and snot from his nose. He next took a long hard look at his handiwork. This man, this giant bastard, Mr. Nigel Broadbury, had essentially been his “second father” for the past five years. He’d shown him kindness, sort of, and allowed him survival, treating him as something of a son—of course, a son who worked hard to clean the bakery every night, slept on a rotting mattress, and often had to beg for extra food when he was especially hungry. But a man who kept him alive, nonetheless.

And now here Five stood, the killer of this father figure… a man who’d spilled his guts, revealing this most evil of crimes—the death of HIS OWN PARENTS!

As Nigel’s corpse lay on his deathbed, having inadvertently orchestrated his own end, Feival stood still, disgusted, repulsed, and now ridden with guilt. He slowly moved over to the dead man’s bed and punched the bastard in the face, as hard as he could, just for good measure.

Once again glancing into the mirror, this time Feival noticed that in his reflection he was smiling. Grinning, ear to ear, in fact.

The young lad then quickly walked over to the tray of delicacies that Vivian Broadbury had brought into the death room nearly an hour earlier.

He devoured everything in sight.

Ready to keep reading? “Five”