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Summary
It was during another night of memorising the texture of the ceiling above his bed that one thought started to throb as insistent and awful as a migraine:
"Why don’t I kill the bastard and be done with it?"
Peter wasn’t like Elias. His mind games were much less effective. He probably wasn’t able to read minds. And, most importantly, he likely wouldn’t see it coming if Martin ran at him while brandishing a knife and screaming bloody murder.
Series
- Part 1 of as my options, oh, they narrow
