Jul 31
№ 1,114 | Iseult
Hauntings, in some cases, are like a Claymore mine rigged to a tripwire. It's a quiet piece of junk in the corner you don't even notice. That is, until you step in the wrong spot.
Iseult reaches into her jacket and produces a pair of Sixte's cufflinks. She shakes them like a pair of dice and drops them on the table. The kitchen door crashes open as a cleaver, spinning like a sawblade, flies out and buries itself in the back of a chair. The head waiter whimpers.
"Watch it," Iseult says. "These things don't always blow all at once."
a story concerning Iseult.
