The Owner Can't Take Any More Negativety in His Life

"Freiheit," Evan said, a crease forming prominently on his forehead. "Stop shouting and calm the fuck down."

"How can I 'calm the fuck down?'" Freiheit snarked, though he finally stopped screaming. "You practically sold your soul to the Devil!"

"Freiheit, you're not making any sense here..."

"Look, Evan, I'm warning you," Freiheit's voice took on an unusual tone of sternness, something Evan never thought his brother was capable of. "Throw away that doll as soon as pos—"

Without waiting for Freiheit to finish, Evan ended the call and pocketed his phone. He returned to the dining room and settled back into his seat.

"Where was I again?" Evan asked, trying to act calm as if Freiheit's warning didn't worry him. "Oh, I haven't started yet, have I?"

Mr. Royall looked at him with pure curiosity. "Why did your brother call?"

Evan bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted the distinct metallic flavor of blood. After a few seconds, he spoke.