Chapter 28: The Lair of the Angry Bunny

The three thugs woke up to the cold sting of reality—and a pounding headache. They were stripped to their boxers, arms and legs bound tight with zip-ties, duct tape, and one of them with ... shoelaces?

The basement was dim, a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. Rusted tools. A karaoke mic stand turned into a meat hook. A Hello Kitty thermos steaming with god-knows-what. A grotesque mix of junkyard and nightmare fuel.

Then came the footsteps.

High heels. Not the elegant kind. The cheap, painful-to-wear kind that clacked like death itself.

Out from the shadow emerged a figure—wearing a pig mask straight out of a low-budget slasher flick, and beneath that, of all things, a Playboy bunny costume—fishnets, corset, ears and all.

One of the thugs immediately screamed.