Someone else once thought of him as a walking fuckhole. Someone else once told him he must like things that he didn't want. Someone else once handled him the way Brad just did, with that same combination of violence and casual objectification.

Someone else once called him a freak.

He killed that person. It was messy and bloody and nasty and violent. He keeps remembering it in detail, over and over again, along with everything that led up to it—the years of torture and starvation, locked up underground where the only light that reached him came when his owner wanted to play.