( call it a sick thrill or sicker curiosity, the exact sickness that led this lost little lambskin wolf straight into the entity's maw, that compels him to sit, obediently, as commanded, on the edge of the bed. he moves his folded clothes to the foot of it, out of the way. when john turns toward him again, he'll find danny where he wanted him — and his bone knife back in his strong hand, blade curved into the hollow of one kneecap. blood crowns the ivory tip in a single dark dewdrop, shiny and glinting.
his eyes are steady on john, mannequin empty like his face. yeah, he was right. that shit is sharp. that'll do, pig. )
cw: self-harm
his eyes are steady on john, mannequin empty like his face. yeah, he was right. that shit is sharp. that'll do, pig. )
You remind me of someone.
( he reminds him of several someones. )