(Warning: Disturbing Graphics Ahead)
My smirk widened when I felt the shiver that ran through Elsa's body.
Her hot tears trickled down her face, touching my hand, which was still covering her mouth.
Meanwhile, Rowland kept doing his thing, holding Mr. Thatcher by the neck while having his right hand digging into his stomach, drawing out blood and his organs.
"Look at all that fat." Rowland whistled, licking the blood off his right hand and turning his gaze to Elsa.
She squirmed, mumbling something incoherent, thanks to my hand on her mouth.
"Would you want a taste?" He asked with a mocking grin, stretching his hand forward.
Elsa screamed in response, but once again, her screams were muffled thanks to my hand covering her mouth.
Soon enough, Mr. Thatcher didn't have any life left in him and stopped struggling, his body becoming limp as his eyes lost their light.
