Chapter 8
To the utter horror of Susan’s like, I had Alex hoisted above my head with one hand.
I spun his head around like he was nothing more than a fan.
This move, I’d actually learned from the “fan freak” back at the asylum.
That guy got locked up for insisting he was a literal electric fan.
His favorite hobby was lifting anything he could–mops, canes, even kids—and spinning them around on top of his head.
Lucky for us he was weak; he couldn’t lift grown adults.
Otherwise, the whole ward would’ve been dizzy every day.
But me? I was born with monstrous strength.
A skinny mutt like Alex Hawkins? I could spin two of him without breaking a sweat.
“Ahhhhhh uhhh-
–
Alex screamed mid–spin, sounding like he was about to puke.
Afraid he’d vomit on me, I dropped him onto the floor with a loud thud.
He groaned and squirmed for a while before he could even stand up again.
Susan and Amelie shrank like quails in the corner, too terrified to even help him up.
“You crazy bitch!” Alex wheezed. “I just got home from work, haven’t even had a break yet. When I catch my breath, I’m gonna squash you like a bug!”
He’d lost face, but refused to lose momentum, puffing himself up with threats.
Normally, I’d have already kicked his teeth in so he’d never run his mouth again.
But suddenly I remembered the food I’d just cooked!
And for the sake of someone tasting my masterpiece, I forced a cheerful smile.
“Of course, of course, you’re the tough one here. Hungry? Come eat something, recharge your energy.”
For some reason, Susan and Amelie both shuddered at the sound of those words.
