@rotmori , cont’d
“it’s not my fault you lack nuance or depth.”
if only he could see the look on her face. she’s almost disappointed, but the idea of a man never does live up to the man himself, does it? she knows from personal experience. john kramer’s been dead a long time now, but she still yearns for his approval.
which is when she considers the knife in her hand, the reflection of the pig mask staring back at her. the red from the light above casts a glare that almost blinds her.
hm.
she looks back at him, standing at her full height as if the remains of the latest failed contestant aren’t quite literally splattered at their feet. all that remains is entrails, meat where a face once was.
that’s when she drops the knife in her hand. she does have another quite literally up her sleeve but the kid doesn’t need to know that.
“see? i’m not going to hurt you.” she pulls off the pig mask, shaking dark hair free as she glances at him. a smile threatens the scarred corners of her mouth. “not unless you make me. i’d rather not, though, considering you’re just child’s play - at least compared to what i could do to you.”