Title: Crimson Shoes
Word Count: 116
(anything else): On a Lesser who is just as much a threat as it is a performer.
Crimson Shoes
She smiles at you in that permanent way of hers, twists about you with all the fluidity which water possesses. A tip, a tap, and doesn't she seem human, with that face, those legs? Not like the behemoths which swing their swords under the moon's command, not those faceless gamblers with crowns like Queens and Kings in decks.
And then she raises her leg, sweeps a heeled foot, a bladed toe, and you gasp, hands going up to stifle the flow of blood from your throat even as it leaks through your fingers and bubbles in your throat.
And she smiles at you, with lips where the blood has long since crusted over the stitches.
