Published at 15th of September 2026 11:14 am

Chapter 51 Finger Lickin' Good (Tuesday POV)

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Whats with the fangs, Niko? You look like a bedazzled vampire, I said.

More like a gangster shark, but hed take that as a compliment. Seeing him now, its hard to picture him as the chunky little weirdo from The Carnival. He got hot. Really hot. His muscles are still visible through the nice suit. Hes like a bull or a stallion. Probably hung like one too. Trying to picture the curvature isnt helping my ability to pay attention. Does it hang to the left or the right? It can hang ten for all I care. Niko slides his grilled piece of meat onto one of my nice plates. It's shaped like an elephant, with the trunk separated so you put your sauce on it. Damn it, that's my favorite one.

Not-Niko Malcolm struts over to the island bar, plopping down on the high-top stool. Carefully, he slices into the steak, revealing a medium rare inside. The three-thousand-pound humanoid shark looks so silly, his giant body barely balancing on the stool. His tailfins wag like a golden retriever waiting for a walk. The elegant, refined air of a gentleman exuding from the sequined tuxedo-wearing predator. The tiny fork and knife in his gigantic hands are funny as fuck. Aww. Not-Nico Shark-Malcolm looks adorable with the juices dripping from his jaws.

Yummy yummy, rumblies in your tumblies. The sweet, rusty tang on your tongue. I hate that it smells good, that it looks delicious, and that I do want a bite. He finishes eating, patting at his face to clean up the liquid on his chin. Jesus, you could cut glass with that thing.

He used your good plate. You should stab him. Take a tooth out and make a lucky necklace.

Tuesday? Are you listening? Not-Niko asked.

KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM!

Of course, Darling. Heaven forbid a lady let her focus slip for but a moment, Duchess Segregation replied.

As I was saying, I have found The Carnival. It's no longer mobile. They've set up shop up north. They're in Alaska. They're centralized, and they've expanded. They send kids up there in shipping containers. And it's not just kids anymore. It's worse than before. I've found the others, and all of them are in. We can make them pay for what happened to us; what they did to us. We can make them suffer, Not-Niko snarled.

REJECTED! I already got a job, and my boss isnt the type to appreciate me freelancing. Especially not when Im already on the shitlist, I responded.

If its about money, I can beat whatever hes paying you. Tuesday, there are only fourteen survivors. I want all of us to be there for the annihilation of the Carnival, Malcolm said passionately.

Its not about the money, I responded.

Then what is it? Whatever you want, I can get you. There is nothing that he can offer you that I cant, he said.

Hands

Touchin' hands

Reachin' out

Touchin' me, touchin' you

Sweet Caroline

Good times never seemed so good

God, youre such a softie. I dont know how you survived while being so sensitive. You might be the most empathetic cannibal to ever exist, I joked dryly. But no, you cant offer me what he does. And youre too much of a goodie two-shoes.

It sounds like I should meet him, maybe over dinner, Malcolm remarked, his glimmering fangs sparkling in the light.

Careful, Darling. Youll find him to be much more than you can handle, Duchess Segregation replied. Its a sign of bad training if a hound bites off more than it can chew.

Youre just making me more curious.

Mhmm. Sowwi, Mistah, but I cant pway witchu anymore, Baby Franklin said.

Clean up after yourself and dont forget to lock the door on your way out. Ill expect the key to the warehouse full of pans to be left on my counter by the time I get home, I told him.

Where are you going? Im not done trying to convince you, he said.

I told you I have work to do.

I pull off my shirt and unclip my bra as Not-Niko covers his eyes. Still as awkward as he was as a kid. Niko has always been a walking contradiction. Forgiving but vengeful. Disdainful of authority but with a natural ability to lead and inspire. Caring, kind, and capable of great violence. He doesnt need to cover his eyes. Im not shy, and I wouldnt mind rolling around in the sheets with him for a lil bit of gut-punching. Shimmying out of my pants, I bend over in an attempt to get him to peek. Summoning an eyeball on the ceiling, I see him staring at my ass. Attaboy. I reverse, bending over backward into a handstand to smile at him.

You like what you see, Niko?

You can stop trying to get me to leave with the naked theatrics and sexual gymnastics. I've known you since we were twelve.

Yeah, and you're telling me that with all those hormones rushing through your body you never thought about exploring each other's bodies? That after a long night of being chased by the Carnival's crafted creatures and hunted by murderbots, with adrenaline pumping through our preteen bodies and the smell of unwashed skin and grime didn't get your little dick hard as a rock?

The smile slips from his face. His cold eyes soften as his head tilts to the side. The pitying look on his face is sickening. Looking at me like Im broken. Like Im a victim or a precious thing that needs to be protected. How dare he pity me? HOW DARE HE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT?

Im so sorry that I couldnt have met you before. Im so sorry I wasnt there to save you, Niko said.

Youre weak #$%&*, and weakness means youre a victim, the older girl said as she kicked me in the stomach again.

I puke out a chunky glob of blood. It hurts so much. I miss my mommy and my daddy. I dont want to be here. I want to go home. The older girl steps on my wrist with her cleats, grinding the spikes into my skin. Please, God, make it stop. Three weeks since I woke up here. I think. Its hard to keep track of the day or time. The sirens activate randomly and make sleeping for longer than three to four hours impossible. The only thing Ive learned since arriving here is that violence is expected and everyone is dangerous. The kids who have been here longer are vicious and cruel. She grinds her foot down harder and my skin rips open, blood spurting out. Why is she hurting me? I didnt do anything.

Eight sets of arms sprout from Nikos clothes. Two of them lock his legs together, and the rest come out of his suit jacket, clawing and grabbing at his face. Niko was strong the last time I saw him, and he most likely has gotten much stronger since, so I make him feel like hes drowning. Drifting down into the bottom of the ocean, Nico fights and struggles to stop himself from sinking. All his strength and speed are nothing compared to the pull from below. Oxygen inside his lungs is replaced by the salty water racing down his throat into his lungs. My conjured arms shove their hands into his gnashing teeth as hes caught up in the illusion. He falls to the ground, thrashing and trying to swim away, but he cant. Blood and bones start to suffocate him as my fingers are crushed and crunched in his mouth. I create more arms as the others become nothing but bloody stumps, as my appendages are caught in his throat, clogging his airway.

Niko falls further, the darkness of the ocean swallowing him. His focus wavers, his consciousness slipping away. All thoughts of his mission, his goal, start to fade away. How did he end up here? One moment he was visiting that woman, then he was adrift in the ocean. Is this where his life ends? The darkness vanishes; his clothes dry despite how long he was drowning. Sputtering as he retches up water, no, not water, blood and fingers onto the carpet. Then comes bile and the meat he just ate. He looks at me, and the pity is gone from his eyes; replaced by the orrect emotion: fear.

It looks like youre the one who needs saving, Niko. Now, be a good boy and get the fuck out of my apartment, I spat.

My arms wrap around the security guards neck, choking him out. Im outside the building where Heritage Constructions headquarters is located, leaning against the marble exterior, and playing games on my phone. The cyclops hand inside the air duct drops down as two additional hands rip off the grate. Crawling over the unconscious mans body, it deactivates the alarms. Thank God theres a button for it. It wouldve sucked to have to ask Doctor Dickhead for help. Wouldve said some shit like I guess I can lower myself to help out such a pitiful, primitive primate. I should stab him in the nuts the next time I see him.

With the alarms deactivated, I put my phone away and headed around to the back of the building. Heritage is on the fifteenth floor, so I got some jogging ahead of me to do. I ease open the back door to check for anyone, but I dont hear a sound. Pulling up my turtleneck over my mouth and nose, I enter the building and make my way toward the stairs. Jumping up, two arms emerge from the railing and pull me up. They disappear, and I repeat the process thirteen more times until I reach my destination.

The emergency exit door is locked from this side, but I thought ahead. Inside my bag is just what I need: a battery-powered sawzall and a butane torch. I crank up the sawzall and carefully make a fifteen-inch-wide hole that I can fit through. I poke my head inside to check for anyone, and the coast is clear. Time to deliver the payload. The final thing I packed for my break-in: ten cans of hairspray duct-taped around a C4 I stole from Isaiah. At the top of my creation is a homemade candle with an eight-foot-long, thick wick coated in gasoline. I lower my creation through the hole onto the ground, and then I retreat back down the staircase until the wick is completely stretched out. I drop the wick to the ground and use the butane torch to carefully light it. It bursts into flames, and the fire races up the wick toward my door knocker.

The fireworks display is beautiful. My skeleton key worked perfectly, and no one is the wiser. Tiptoeing inside, I somersault across the floor before running into my first obstacle. The colossal security drone tries to bury me beneath its wicked traps, but I dodge out of the way before they land on me. The floor is slick with water, likely a dastardly maneuver by the vicious robot to ensnare me. But I am too smart to fall for that. Our fight is one where a single mistake means death, and Im soaked in sweat by the end of it. As a last-ditch effort to take me down with it, the foul machine sets the room ablaze.

The fire alarm goes off, and the sprinklers activate, water bursting onto the computers, file cabinets, and smaller-scale models that are set up as displays around the room. I run around the room, putting waste bins beneath the cubicles and setting them on fire. The desks will prevent the fires from going out, and it should be able to do enough damage to ruin something. The fire department is probably on the way here now. I dont have a lot of time. Damn it, there goes my stealth strategy out the window. The window. The window. I grab a chair and toss it at the giant window panes facing the street. It bounces back. Damn, I really thought that would work.

Fire will set you free.

Yes, like a phoenix I shall rise from the ashes. I turn the torch back on and press the flame against the glass. It takes a good minute or so, but the glass explodes. Freedom awaits me at the bottom. A short run up and I leap out of the opening; the night sky awaits me. Hundreds of arms sprout from the back of my hoodie, taking the form of giant wings made out of human limbs. For a moment, with the wind whipping at my face, I feel like an angel, but then I fall because human bones arent like birds'. Below me, cars are parked, their drivers out and shouting about some fire that happened. People are recording on their phones, pointing up behind me. I continue to plummet, wrapping myself in the hand wings, as I crash into a minivan, denting the roof in.

Someone shrieks in fear as an explosion sends chunks of concrete and a shower of glass raining down into the streets. My wings dissolve as I roll off the car. God damn, my back hurts like a motherfucker. Firetrucks and emergency vehicles arrive shortly after. The lady who might be the owner of the minivan shouts at me, falling onto her ass.

Holy fuck, how are you alive? She asked.

Please, maam, no flash photography. I gotta say, this citys really gone to shit. I have half a mind to write a sternly worded email to the mayor, I told her.

Y-you caused that, she said, pointing at me accusatorily.

Dont do it, I warned.

She scrambles to grab her purse, reaching for her phone. I jump at her, kicking the phone out of her hands. Grasping both wrists, I make eye contact and spit in her mouth. The most delicious cheeseburger shes ever seen is right in front of her, and shes too hungry to resist. The diner is known for their cheeseburgers, so she can probably have a few bites before calling the police. Theyll understand once they see how tasty it looks. The bacon is so crunchy, and the sauce practically squirts into her mouth. I retreat into a nearby alley, leaving her to enjoy her finger-licking good meal.

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