"I know." Leo had seen the morgue files. Seven people. Each died smiling. Each with spiral fractures in their legs, as if they'd danced past the point of bone giving way.
The bass dropped. The crowd cheered. And somewhere in the dark, a rusted scythe began to swing in perfect, terrible time. DancingReaper -v1.02- -WOD-
"Dance?" Her voice was a needle scratch on vinyl. "I know
"I am version 1.02," she said. "The first one crashed. Too fast. Too much reaping. Now I take my time." DancingReaper -v1.02- -WOD-
No fangs. No claws. Just fingers long as candle drippings.
She stepped forward. Leo swung.