"Go to hell, you absolute, perverted psycho!" Malcolm roared, his voice cracking under the weight of the thick, heavy heat clawing at his throat. He clutched his own knees, his knuckles turning white as he stared anywhere but at the man sitting on the bed. "I will never give you that satisfaction! I will never degrade myself by touching my own body like a spectacle for your sick, twisted eyes! I am not an animal for your amusement!"
Dahmer didn't look bothered at all by the explosive rejection. He merely tilted his head, his sharp silver eyes gleaming through the dark slits of the cloth mask that he had been wearing all along—the mask he refused to remove because the slightest slip would reveal his true identity as Luca Vane, the quiet AI Ethics intern. A slow, deeply amused hum vibrated in his chest.
