Chapter 89
People in the underworld always said Todd was mentally ill, and that he had an official certificate from a psychiatric hospital.
Before I came here, I kept imagining what kind of person he would be. Would his hair be all over the place? Or would he crawl around like a dog, eating from trash cans?
Now, I finally understood how ridiculous those thoughts of mine had been. He wasn't called "Todd the Lunatic" because he was mentally ill. He was a lunatic in the sense that he did the craziest and most deranged things. In other words, he was a complete psychopath.
The entire courtyard echoed with his wild laughter. I had no idea why he was laughing, but the sound chilled me to the bone. It was even more terrifying than the ghostly cackles in horror films.
Still laughing, Todd grabbed a bottle of beer from the crate beside him and smashed it onto Carl's head.
Another heavy crash ensued. The bottle burst open on Carl's head. Beer and blood streamed down his face over half of his face.
But

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