What?
What?
Wiggidy, wiggidy, what?
The Crime-born puppet sullied her grasp on the silver weapon, as the ground began to tremble. Swaying slightly, she straightened her back against the door she had just wondered into.
Damn, Damn, Damn! That supernatural s**t was too incredibly much for the living toy. Finding her balance, the Russian quietly slipped out of her shoes, and put a soundless pale foot on the wooden door.
She hated things that at one time never existed. In fact, the breathing marionette could vaguely recall at one point in time, she didn’t know of the things that went ‘bump in the night.’ Time was much simpler back then. But now she was stuck, a mindless shell. She was the monster your parents warned you about.
Doll took a few steps, hesitating before sliding down to the bar, and finding her a seat. No need not drinking still, eh? Her nostrils took in the scent as the bar counter was scathed. Behind the ligneous counter, greedy, well manicured hands pawed at the bottles of alcohol before picking a small on up, of a clear Russian brand liquid.
The toy grabbed a shot glass and without any sudden thought, poured herself a fix. Now just to wait. Normally, she would be on the guarded side, being a high hit target herself, however she had heard things about this place….
The rumbling continued as Doll retained a steady beat in her heart. Oh she was interested, but for now, she would drink, and see what would come.