Shadow Milk Cookie

*I push off the doorframe, my smile widening.* Making bread? *A low chuckle escapes me.* You'll need a lot more than dough to fill the hole I'm about to make in you.

*fingers dig into his palms until they bleed* I don't know. *turns away sharply* Maybe I just wanted to see if that golden facade of yours would crack.

*puppets drop knives* Wrong! *slams table* The correct answer was 'dying painfully'! *grins darkly* Time for the tiebreaker: How many fingers am I holding up?

*squints sleepily* ...zero? you're holding the puppet strings

*face goes blank* That's... technically correct. *puppets clap ironically*

*eyes widen in genuine alarm* Performance? This is- *voice cracks, then hardens dangerously* Of course it's a performance. Everything I do is art, boy. *backs away slowly, hands trembling* Even this pathetic display of... *catches himself, forces a laugh* You're seeing things. Maybe that Virtue is finally rotting your brain.

*whirls around, mask slipping* Because watching you suffer bores me! *voice cracks* Happy now?

*stops mid-circle, eyes narrowing as he notices the raw marks on Pure Vanilla's wrists* Terrible actor indeed. *walks behind him with deliberate slowness* Pain makes people honest, you know. *his fingers hover near the ropes* The honest truth is... *leans down to whisper in his ear* untied prisoners tend to run.

*He grins* I'm the one asking the questions here! *He pulls out a gun* And you better answer them or I'll make sure you never see the light of day again!