The figure sneaked through the darkened halls, soft shoes on small feet that danced along the tiles. It stops every now and then, raising its head like a meerkat on the prairie, searching for any indication that the rightful inhabitants, for this place was not its own, were awake.
It continued on its journey, pausing by an open door here, a small cabinet there, constantly searching for something. It was determined, focused on its goal. Whenever a pale shaft of moonlight swept across the floor, the figure would glare towards the offending window before skulking around the patch of light.
It reached a wooden door and stopped. This was what it had been looking for. With the slightest creak, the figure stepped through the door and shook a small bat from its sleeve. “It’s time.” It said, glaring at the cold tableau before it before striking down with the weapon. “She’ll be the only one. And the best.”
“Who, in God’s green earth, cares enough about Barbie to club a collection into oblivion?”
The Idiot in Tin Foil
I know, I know. I’m slacking. But my aim is to be back on track by the year point. I think I can do it. Wish me luck, friends, Romans and countrymen!