This time she pauses. She puts her crayon down. Then she holds up the skull, turning it so I can see the front.
My jaw spasms.
“Holy shit,” the kid beside me mumbles through a chuckle. “That’s fucking twisted.”
It’s red. All of it, from top to bottom.
Except she’s caked on so much of the crayon that it actually looks like a bloodbath.
I swallow, No Name’s question about Katerina echoing in my mind. Yeah, I think about what I wanna do to her.
“You’re pretty good,” I mutter, a bitter taste on my tongue. “Looks just like the real thing.”
She beams as she turns the skull back around, her smile wider than I’ve ever seen it. Well, she should be proud. It’s impressive for a fucking five-year-old to capture blood so well.
I’m just about to rest my head against the wall when a small voice pulls my gaze across the room again. I squint, realizing she’s singing as she goes back to coloring. She’s not actually using words, but still, I’ve never heard her hum before.
Until now, I’d never heard her make a sound.
I don’t recognize the tune, but it’s slow and soft. Kinda creepy, actually.
“Creepy shit right there,” No Name echoes my thoughts.
The corner of my mouth tips up as I lean back and close my eyes, listening. We’re all screwed in the end, but there’s something about knowing I played a part in getting the girl without a voice to sing.
Even if she is covered in red.
