The Runaway Groom

Chapter 342

There was a small white bottle, a switchblade, and a lighter.

None of them were particularly deadly, but with a little work, it could still inflict damage to the human body.

Quincy therefore had to act calm. “We’re in a police station.”

Stan chuckled. “We know that, so we won’t do anything stupid. That said, I’m quite close with that officer just now, so he’s willing to give us some space.”

Quinc’ys face paled, even as Stan took off his tie and stuffed it into her mouth.

Isaac rose to his feet as well, picking up the switchblade and ejecting the blade-it was not particularly huge, but very sharp.

“I can do it, sir,” Stan said, walking up to him.

Isaac, however, stayed silent as he walked around the table toward Quincy and pressed the blade against Quincy’s face.

He just needed to apply little pressure, and the blade would cut through Quincy’s skin.

her pupils

butcher’s table, and it was even more terrifying than the

death was easy-one would not know it

spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

parents’ funeral.” As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she did

the blade

did not bleed much since he avoided any arteries-but it

been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a human’s vulnerable spots, where it hurt or had the

the neck was a vulnerable spot especially given the jugular, there was a spot one could reach. there, free from blood vessels but rife with

as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as she felt death loomed, but

standing aside, appeared worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and

looked up at him, his expression

but she’s not worth getting

suddenly plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s

he pulled it out, he gave Stan a look. “Don’t disappoint

whimpering miserably, her facial features contorted

not help shuddering

to look sympathetic. Picking up the white bottle, he said, “Oh, poor you. Don’t worry-I’ll disinfect