[ The lieutenant understands that the pale hand of death can reap life from the disenchanted field of reality, yet she perceives her own death at great remove. She had no need to account for her demise before and circumvents the thought even now for fear that admittance would open a door to the possibility of failure; meeting her end in so wretched a place with her task undone is unacceptable to the child. Banish the thought! And should doubt scale the ridges of her spine, banish it anew. Has she not perfected the art of pushing things downā€”unbearable thingsā€”for the fulfilment of one man?
She decrees his knowledge of her workings sufficient to take the next step although his insight is anything but complete. Each item of information is a piece of herself surrendered to a stranger whose motivations cannot be corroborated with a mere exchange of words. He must become less strange to her in order to lower her defences. It is a matter of building trust through action. ]
Yes. Sacrifice your right hand to my appetite. I'm feeling mighty peckish, soldier!
[ Her gaze lingers on the gentleman without humour. Her lips part, raising the curtain on a monstrous smile. ]
Then again, a ghost can't be too filling.
[ Her pallor casts doubt on whether the girl is alive at all, a question without a definitive answer; that she eats, however, is a certainty. ]
I want to eat flesh. Human flesh! But the buried are nothing but bones.
[ Millie looks to the bleary glow of city lights like shards of bottle glass blinking in the sky of night. She presumes, perhaps naively, that he is better acquainted with civilisation than herself, in part because he is an adult. ]
Her gaze drifts to a crow perched on the cemetery gate. She points to the bird. ]
no subject
She decrees his knowledge of her workings sufficient to take the next step although his insight is anything but complete. Each item of information is a piece of herself surrendered to a stranger whose motivations cannot be corroborated with a mere exchange of words. He must become less strange to her in order to lower her defences. It is a matter of building trust through action. ]
Yes. Sacrifice your right hand to my appetite. I'm feeling mighty peckish, soldier!
[ Her gaze lingers on the gentleman without humour. Her lips part, raising the curtain on a monstrous smile. ]
Then again, a ghost can't be too filling.
[ Her pallor casts doubt on whether the girl is alive at all, a question without a definitive answer; that she eats, however, is a certainty. ]
I want to eat flesh. Human flesh! But the buried are nothing but bones.
[ Millie looks to the bleary glow of city lights like shards of bottle glass blinking in the sky of night. She presumes, perhaps naively, that he is better acquainted with civilisation than herself, in part because he is an adult. ]
Her gaze drifts to a crow perched on the cemetery gate. She points to the bird. ]
Kill it. It'll have to do.