MABEL
His distance set her at ease, not because of the space between, but what it implied. Fear? Apprehension? Distaste? Omens? Good; she wanted the earth afraid of her. She wanted the world to see her coming and reel away. She wanted to become something that shook and shattered the rest of the remnants – even though, for right now, she was a mere figment. A fragment, newly reborn, newly resurrected, a renewal sharpening over her senses. There would come a time where she could be a terror, an onslaught, a deceitful, duplicitous, malicious little beast. Right now she wasn’t, but maybe it wouldn’t take long.
She had other things to tend to anyway.
Her eyes sharpened, watching as he swallowed, going to flesh and skin along his throat. The appeasement might’ve made her laugh, though the sound would’ve a hollow rasp, in the way she held herself. Why would you want to help? segmented through her mind. There’d be nothing in it for him. No gains. No rewards. Perhaps he was one of these do-gooders, turning their livelihoods upside down for others. Mabel nearly scoffed. She fought off a sneer too, a snarl threatening to rise over fangs and hackles, like some wild, untamed thing. Perhaps she was.
“My sister,” she responded instead, a grate, a sibilance, a hiss. She could use him for that at least. “We’re twins.” Then she turned, as if this was a suitable explanation – both lissome, willowy figures, both having once chosen to slide into the Voice’s wake. Mabel had again. But what about Evelyn? “I didn’t see her at our farmhouse.” And then she continued her march, bare feet pressing once more into the snow, afraid that if she remained still for long the chance, the opportunity, might billow away.
She had other things to tend to anyway.
Her eyes sharpened, watching as he swallowed, going to flesh and skin along his throat. The appeasement might’ve made her laugh, though the sound would’ve a hollow rasp, in the way she held herself. Why would you want to help? segmented through her mind. There’d be nothing in it for him. No gains. No rewards. Perhaps he was one of these do-gooders, turning their livelihoods upside down for others. Mabel nearly scoffed. She fought off a sneer too, a snarl threatening to rise over fangs and hackles, like some wild, untamed thing. Perhaps she was.
“My sister,” she responded instead, a grate, a sibilance, a hiss. She could use him for that at least. “We’re twins.” Then she turned, as if this was a suitable explanation – both lissome, willowy figures, both having once chosen to slide into the Voice’s wake. Mabel had again. But what about Evelyn? “I didn’t see her at our farmhouse.” And then she continued her march, bare feet pressing once more into the snow, afraid that if she remained still for long the chance, the opportunity, might billow away.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
