Role

Chapter 8

Her father was dead. It caused a pang of sadness within her. She did
want their relationship to end. The talk, the back and forth, the banter
they'd shared. She realised how much it had been comforting her. She'd
been enjoying trying to manipulate him.

Did that have to end? Delilah scattered the bones across the dirt
again, and studied them. Within in each one, a small ruby sliver had been
embedded. They sparkled in the darkness as they span and then stopped
again. They told her nothing. Frustrated she picked up the dead arm of a
Sahaugin and lobbed it at the wall - where it exploded in a splash of
rotting flesh! She hated being blocked. Something wasn't letting her
Gravesight her father's body and she wanted it so badly. A few of her
toys sat on the floor in bedraggled piles of vaguely connected limbs and
parts. Each of them looked truly like a doll in the way she dropped them
to the floor, with their heads lolling around idly. She raised her hand
to a storm giant zombie she had made and began making it do a jib. It's
shoulders shrugged, then it's arms pointed left. It shrugged again and
it's arms pointed right. She chuckled.

No, it wouldn't be forever that she'd be kept from her Father. Wherever
he was buried, she would find him. And make him... dance. Theodarian
Davenport's torment hadn't ended yet.

_o_ \\o o//
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