The thing behind her seemed to vanish; but no, no, Chilton must have imagined it. Just a trick of the light. That poor inhuman sack of regret was still there. Or was it? Oh dearie dear dear, it was not.
There was nothing in the corner. Then there was, again, with horns and spikes, then without, then not at all. A horrible wheel of monstrous images played behind her, now turned the knife and curling his fingers around its handle. Her stomach was closer to the blade this way. Just a few inches would get her off, have her stuck. Just a nudge from behind could have her impaled. So many possibilities...
"Don't you?" Her voice was different, harsher, almost like she spoke from a different throat than she had been using all along. "Don't you want it? Don't you get tired of lying to yourself, Frederick? You can't have the fame without the effort. You can't come clean without blood on your hands."
Her voice warped further, demonic, matching the view in the background. Her hands were no longer soft. Her nails felt like claws. And then they were; by God, her very skin became gray and scaled.
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There was nothing in the corner. Then there was, again, with horns and spikes, then without, then not at all. A horrible wheel of monstrous images played behind her, now turned the knife and curling his fingers around its handle. Her stomach was closer to the blade this way. Just a few inches would get her off, have her stuck. Just a nudge from behind could have her impaled. So many possibilities...
"Don't you?" Her voice was different, harsher, almost like she spoke from a different throat than she had been using all along. "Don't you want it? Don't you get tired of lying to yourself, Frederick? You can't have the fame without the effort. You can't come clean without blood on your hands."
Her voice warped further, demonic, matching the view in the background. Her hands were no longer soft. Her nails felt like claws. And then they were; by God, her very skin became gray and scaled.
"Do it."