Crowe stood over her like a dark eclipse, the moonlight catching on the edges of his fedora and turning the brim into a thin blade of silver.
Nellie, or Six now as Crowe named her. Though the name still felt way off to her, still very much lay on her back in the blood circle.
Her chest fluttering in tiny, panicked sips of air. The stumps of her arms and legs throbbed in dull, wet pulses, but even that pain felt far away, muffled by her current exhaustion.
He lowered himself slowly, knees bending with impossible grace, until he was crouched beside her ruined body. One pale hand reached down and gathered a thick lock of her matted hair.
He rolled the strands between thumb and forefinger the way a jeweler tests gems, feeling the texture, the weight, it was light and silky to the touch
"So Soft." He murmured, almost to himself as he looked at Nellie with a smile, although to her it was creepy on do many levels.
