I snapped my fingers, cloaking both myself and the corpse in the shadows. The night stretched out before , and with Ernesto slung over my shoulder like a sack of rotten potatoes, I made my way toward Don Diego’s villa.
But when I arrived at the pigsty...
I stopped dead in my tracks.
What.
The.
Fuck.
The pigs.
They were gone.
My fingers twitched like I was about to convulse. My brain refused to process it. The pen was empty—just scattered straw and a few muddy prints in the dirt.
I almost choked on my rage.
Where were my pigs?
My beautiful, gluttonous, ever-hungry garbage disposals?
I clenched my jaw. This... this was a problem.
Without them, I had to dispose of Ernesto another way and it was so annoying. I had to dispose of Clara another way the other day because of María José.
I an, she was worth more than that, but I needed my pigs now. I needed to dispose of this body early enough, get back ho to have a change of clothes, and have a quick shower so I don’t sll like death and blood to her before I go pay her a visit tonight.
But look what happened?! The plan has failed!
I dragged the body into the woods, grumbling under my breath. This was a waste of ti. I had better things to do—like watching María José sleep. Not in a creepy way. Just... protectively.
But nooo. The pigs had vanished, and now I was out here, digging a shallow grave like so amateur.
Fine. I’d burn him like I did to Clara’s body. It was quick and efficient anyway.
I snapped my fingers, and flas ignited straight away, licking up the body with hungry fingers. The scent of burning flesh filled the air thickly.
As satisfactory as watching the pigs fight for human parts was, I’d have to say watching it burn in the ambers of a fire wasn’t so bad as well.
I was in my thoughts when I heard footsteps and voice
I froze.
Shit. Soone was coming.
No, a group was approaching ! I couldn’t afford to get caught or seen.
"Hey! What’s going on here?"
I turned sharply, my heart beating so fast by what I had glimpsed. It was a patrol. Four n approached fast.
Fuck.
Since when did patrols start parading this pack?!
I barely had ti to think before they spotted the fire.
"Holy—there’s a body!" one of them shouted.
Another soldier cursed. "Put it out! Now!"
They rushed forward, dousing the flas, and revealing the charred remains of Ernesto beneath.
They stared in shock.
"The hell? Who did this?!"
One of them knelt beside the corpse, pressing two fingers against the blackened throat as if that would do anything.
"Dead," he muttered. "He’s been—"
"... murdered." The realization set in.
Another soldier unsheathed his weapon. "Search the area! The killer might still be nearby."
Oh, how right they were.
I barely breathed as they fanned out, searching.
For the first ti in years, I had left behind evidence. I had been sloppy.... Sothing I’d never been.
And I hated it.
Gritting my teeth, I teleported out of there, reappearing in my bedroom in an instant.
The mont I landed, I slamd my fist into the wall, my rage thrashing through .
How did this happen?
The pigs were gone. The patrol was on alert. And worst of all...
I wouldn’t see María José tonight.
Fucking hell.
I huffed, rolling my shoulders. Fine. This wasn’t ideal. But I would fix it. I always did.
I was Big Bad Daddy Luis.
And nobody... nobody, ssed with my ga.
My eyes turned to the mirror. My reflection stared back at ; clothes torn, blood splattered across my jaw, eyes glinting with darkness. The firelight from my bedside lamp was illuminating faintly and creating shadows that made my face look even more twisted.
I exhaled. Fine. It’s fine. This is just a setback.
And yet—my blood boiled at the thought. A setback. The very idea that sothing had thrown off my perfect ga was unacceptable.
With a sharp exhale, I grabbed the nearest object and it was a vase. It might be expensive, imported, probably priceless but I didn’t give a fuck.
I hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, shards raining onto the floor like broken teeth.
My lips curled. It wasn’t enough.
I wanted to burn sothing. Soone.
I pressed my hands against the cool marble of my desk, grounding myself. Think, Luis. What’s the next step?
The soldiers. They had seen the body. Their patrol would be on high alert now, which ant sneaking out was risky.
This ant the pack would know now that there was a killer amongst them. Well, good luck fishing out. Hehehe!
I wouldn’t see María José tonight.
That thought had my hands clenching so hard that my knuckles turned white.
I stared at my reflection again, eyes burning in the dim light. The blood on my jaw had dried, cracking against my skin. My shirt was torn, streaked with soot, and the stench of burned flesh.
I couldn’t show up like this anyway.
I needed a shower. I needed clean clothes. I needed a goddamn plan.
I stord into my bathroom, pulling off the ruined clothes and tossing them onto the tiled floor. The water was scalding when I turned the shower on, but I barely felt it. My mind was too busy running through the ss I had to clean up.
The patrol.
They wouldn’t stop at just reporting the body. They’d investigate. Question people. Start watching for anything suspicious.
I’d been perfect for years. No trails. No evidence. No witnesses.
And yet, tonight, sothing had gone wrong.
Why?
Was this the devil’s doing? Or their crazy do-gooder Moon Goddess?
With every day that passed, Don Diego was going up on my blacklist. Those pigs were his. Nobody would touch them without his permission.
Did he do so kind of ritual? Have his daughter sleep there overnight and then sell the livestock all out?
It didn’t make any sense.
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