witty repertoire

[Elvira Winters]

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One day deceit would be her mantle. One day she’d be the queen of terrible things. Until then, she was nothing more than a pudgy infant with wicked desires. The meaning of cruelty, or life and death hadn’t yet been imposed on her. Right and wrong didn’t exist. Her brother made his way down the stairs, enticed so innocently by the prospect of play with his sister.

He was naïve, innocent, and seemingly oblivious of her darker motives. Her version of amusement was wrong. But still, she smiled. “What shall we play?” she asked, as though she didn’t have anything already in mind. She suddenly seemed thoughtful, silently contemplating.

“Let’s play hide and seek,” she said, ever so dimly devious.

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