The little boy curled up deeper under his bed with his hands tight over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. He was trying to block out the noise of what was happening to his family downstairs. His mother had heard the door open and the laugh of Cletus and Jenbola as they made their way into the family’s home. She had turned and shoved him screaming at him to run, to get away. He didn’t know where to go, so he went where he felt safest in times of anger in his household. He went under his bed, blocked out the sound and rocked back and forth trying not to make any noise aside from his muffled sobs as he buried his face in his knees. 

Jenbola watched as Cletus pulled his knife out in preparation of the fun the two of them were going to have. It was just a little date night for the leaders of New York. Just a bit of fun to let go of the stress of running a family. Just something small to take their stress away. Just a bit of harmless murder to break up the mundane day to day of their lives. 

Cletus tilted his head to the side, listening to his master. Jenbola had hoped to one day hear the master, but at the same time she rather enjoyed being her own person. Sure, it might be comforting, and nice to have someone agree with you and your choices, but she made her own and so far they had all made her happy. She thought back to the last man she had lured into her bed, where he never left. At least not alive. She smiled at the thought and her heart already felt lighter and they hadn’t even started murdering yet! 

The woman, who was tied spread eagle on the dining room table with each appendage latched securely to one of the legs, was moving her head back and forth between the two of them. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear and tears as she struggled to yell out around the gag that had been lovingly placed in her mouth. After Cletus shot and killed the man of the house, they had taken the time to soak the rag in his blood before tying it around her face. Honestly, some people were just ungrateful. 

Some time later Rev read about this scene in New York Times.Civilians deaths were not important to him aside from deaths of family and crew members he has. He thought that with a smirk in his face ''That soaking blood on to the rag thing is more insane than Dexter's jobs.It's yet simple but have some style in it.I like that.Maybe i will do it with a couple drops of mine when i drop who is responsible for my father's death.And it will be little different but with my own style.Like if you spill my blood, i will drown you in my blood own blood .How does it sounds?'' and folded the newspaper as he reach to his cigar on the ashtray.