Bad blood.

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"Are you not afraid?" I asked, squeezing the hunting knife at his throat. - Not here, baby, a little lower, you see where the carotid artery, with all its strength cuts, - he whines and I can feel the droplets of blood flowing down my hand I swallow the air with my lips, tightening the knife in shaking hands, so that the wheezing breaks out of my throat. He's my best friend since I was a kid, and he's a bastard to look for. I could end everything with one click, but I understand that without it I can not live ...
LF/272654409/R
Data sheet
- Name of the Author
- Надежда Жирохова
- Language
- Russian