Time: Night 18
Summary: After murder, there must always be tea
Warnings: Post Character Death? Traumatized Lolis?
She woke in tears, remembering staring up at the boy with mirrors for eyes, remembering being dragged from her hiding place by rough uncaring hands, remembering shock and pain and begging and pleading and being ignored completely as he lifted the gun to shoot her again.
She remembered flinching and sound and pain and silence and waking up. Alone. In the dark. Knowing, somehow, that she should still be gone to where ever things went when the died.
Her hands grasped uselessly at air, reaching for a child's toy that wasn't there.
"Daddy? Mr. Hans?" She sobbed softly, nearly silently, curling into a ball in the shadow of the boxes. "Somebody? I wanna go home. I don't like this game anymore."
But she knew she couldn't. She knew. She just knew. The door only opened one way. She might be able to leave, but she couldn't go home.
The tiny ball of misery and terror stayed hidden inside the box, curled up in on herself.
Humans are selfish creatures. "But suppose the Blacksmith didn't know any better? Does that change anything? Or does it matter?"
'Look at me, look at me, the monster inside me has grown this large.'
IhatehimIwanthimtodie. Iwanthimtohurttoo. I hope it gobbles you up and steals your name.
Humans are selfish creatures.