“You’re taking people too often, Abel. You’re going to draw attention. What’s sparked this change in your behavior,” I asked as I chewed on another mouthful of food.

“Fuck man, why are you always on my case?”

I flicked the fork around in my hand, and Abel watched it closely, knowing he was nearing my limits. “Stop avoiding and answer the question.”

“I’m bored, man. We never go out together to do anything,” Abel said and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know why we don’t go out together.”

“Yeah, I know, but bro, all we do is work and kill people, and my work helps me kill people.”

“Are you saying you’d prefer not to kill people?” My hand relaxed on the fork I’d been preparing to use.

“No, of course not. I’d just like for us to do more. We’re in a rut, always doing the same thing. Work, eat, sleep, fuck, kill. Not necessarily in that order. Don’t you want to travel? We could go to Egypt and see the pyramids, or go to Greece, or….”

“The answer is no. I have no interest in getting on a plane. I have no interest in changing my habits. I have no interest in seeing the world or anything else. I like my life just the way it is.” Abel slumped in his chair, his face very close to the same pout as when we were children. “If you want to travel, let me know what weeks, and I will make sure to hunt while you’re away. It will help solidify our alibi.”

“I meant for us to do something together.”

Pushing the chair away from the table, I stood and put my plate in the dishwasher. “I know what you meant, and I also know that it’s not possible. Maybe take up a new hobby, or how about you join a dating app?”

“A dating app? Do you really think they have dating apps for serial killers?” Abel tapped his chin as he thought. “You know that’s not a bad idea…anyway, I don’t want to date. That shit’s way too much work. Like this girl you got downstairs, too much work.”

“I’m not dating her. She is…an experiment, and her eyes are special,” I said as I began cleaning the kitchen.

Abel may cook a meal, but he’d rarely cleaned up after himself. I’m surprised his house didn’t have mice lined up to sit at a special small table with small plates of food and belching as they sat on his lap.

“Right. Sure. Like I believe that crap.”

“Believe what you want.” I finished wiping the grease off the stove that Abel had managed to get everywhere and tossed the cloth into the garbage. “You can see yourself out.”

“What? You mean we’re not going to jerkoff to our homemade videos?”