As he held the miniature scalpel over the obviously terrified eyeball that was staring fearfully at him, Orlando could not, even with his greatest effort of self-control, refuse the smile from crossing his lips.

The power inside him, the power of pain, of life and death, was just as exhilarating as Thomas had told him. Thomas had warned he may feel ill, or even puke a bit as he sliced into it while the victim was still alive, but Thomas had convincingly insisted he do it with life still in the victim so he could experience the difference between the feeling of inflicting pain and taking life.

Slowly, suredly, and as methodically as he could, Orlando buried the scalpel blade into the baby chick’s eyeball. He felt no sickness, though the little agonising screams coming from the beak may have induced that feeling in others.

Next he casually sliced the throat, instantly ending the life as a small puddle of crimson juice exited the wound.

The 12-year-old’s erection was stonelike as he thought about the future.