@kermitlegs
[ cracks run through her mother’s graying skin, splitting it apart and unearthing colors myrtle has never wanted to see. she sits across from her, staring from under hooded eyes.
there’s a noise upstairs, and had she an ounce of hope left, myr would’ve screamed for help. if she ever finds the one who padlocked the cellar from the outside, she’ll kill them. the sound of footsteps on floorboards rouses the creature in her mum’s skin, which rouses her daughter in turn. myr looks to the wrist of the woman she shackled to the wall and shouts as flesh and bone begin to tear, freeing it. louder and louder she’s screeching with everything she has as the thing breaks free. this is how she dies, this is how she’s going to die. ]
