"Are you sure you don't want to spend the afternoon in my corridors?" the Distortion asked in Helen's best reasonable-friend voice; "I promise I'm an excellent listener if you want to shout, you can't hurt anything if you want to kick my walls or shred the wallpaper, and I have a nice variety of ice cream for winding down afterwards."
For a moment, Melanie looked genuinely tempted.
"Ah well, maybe some other day," the Distortion said in response to Melanie's eventual headshake of refusal, because patience was a virtue and a well-seasoned meal was always more filling.
She could wait while the sharp, pulsing song of the Slaughter continued to strengthen in Melanie's bones (her fierce denial of any outside, unnatural influence, no matter how clear the line from war ghosts to phantom bullets to the ability to harm creatures of the Flesh, made such tasty, twisty echoes), and then wait some more while Melanie's incandescent fury added spice to the terror of other victims wandering Helen's guts.
When the Distortion swallowed Melanie for keeps, her screams of betrayal would be delicious beyond human words.
A Spoonful of Sugar (The Magnus Archives)
For a moment, Melanie looked genuinely tempted.
"Ah well, maybe some other day," the Distortion said in response to Melanie's eventual headshake of refusal, because patience was a virtue and a well-seasoned meal was always more filling.
She could wait while the sharp, pulsing song of the Slaughter continued to strengthen in Melanie's bones (her fierce denial of any outside, unnatural influence, no matter how clear the line from war ghosts to phantom bullets to the ability to harm creatures of the Flesh, made such tasty, twisty echoes), and then wait some more while Melanie's incandescent fury added spice to the terror of other victims wandering Helen's guts.
When the Distortion swallowed Melanie for keeps, her screams of betrayal would be delicious beyond human words.