DRACONTARIUM

‘ i didn’t do it, ’ her grin’s somehow peevish, her stern little face loath to relax, and it’s  nothing to do with the blood in the grass. ‘ and i didn’t see who did. but they weren’t very good at it, were they? ’ / @cultheroine

‘That’s because people aren’t hard to understand.’ 

The two of them, watching the audience leaving the matinee screening of an animated movie where two cats fall in love, all green faces, shaky hands. Every one of the fathers trying to do something about the unfortunate reaction they’ve had. Every one of the mothers feeling something they haven’t felt in years. All the parents, hot under the collar. All the kids close to tears. 

Tyler had invited Faye up to the booth personally. The Bathory film is in pieces on the table, each frame where Faye’s rose petal mouth opens at the neck of another woman chopped up into blink-and-you’ll miss it frames. Prints are rare.

‘ not usually. ’  the tone’s calm and disinterested, her cold, quiet anger buried several layers deep, tucked away where it can bleed and rot and fester. it wouldn’t be such an issue, she decides, if he weren’t so intent on taking her likeness and using it to torment children.

still, it’s second to her amusement at the overt discomfort of any man. it’s the only concession she’s willing to give him.

when the men begin to bore her (it doesn’t take long), she moves to admire the stills of herself strewn across the editing table. it isn’t even the most vulgar scene in that film.

“Yes, thank God, unless I’m dreaming.” Miri rubs a hand over her face.