His nose throbbed, his eyebrows were singed, and his black t-shirt was smeared with blood and snot. He listened to his boss’s—his lord and master’s—harangue with slow cool tears on his flushed cheeks. “You didn’t find it, did you, Jimmy Lee? I give you one job to do and you screw it up like you screw up everything in your worthless white trash life.” “I blew up the lab, Speaker. If it was in there, it’s gone now.” His voice sounded nasal and garbled in his own ears. His hand trembled. The phone felt heavy. “Damn it, Jimmy Lee. But did you ever see it?” “The chink bitch wouldn’t talk. She—” “Yes or no: did you see it?” “Nossir.” “Did you search the lab real good?” Pause. “Yessir. But I never found it.” “And so you just blew up the place? And killed the bitch who might of known where it is? Is that it?” “Just to be safe. You said you wanted the thing destroyed. So I figured, just in case—” “Damn it, Jimmy Lee. I want to know it’s destroyed.
What do You think about All The Devil's Creatures?
