Oh, I’ll be enjoying a whole hell of a lot.
But first, I want to scrub the stench of death off my skin.
It’s an aroma I wear with purpose. One meant to repel. Just like my mask.
It’s how I hide here.
I haven’t worn my real face in… ages. Centuries. Sometimes I wonder if my varying personalities are here to stay. They come so naturally now, rolling through my mind with a speed I can no longer track.
Ah, well. Such is life, I suppose.
I lock the suite door and set up a card trick that’ll ensure no one can come through without meeting a very quick, verydeadlydemise.
Then I arrange a similar trap by the master bedroom door—this one meant to ensnare my gorgeous little minx in case she decides to go wandering before I’m done showering. It won’t hurt her, just… capture her.
Which may actually prove to be quite fun. She looked all pretty whilst strung up in that Gum Tree; this would be even more accessible since it would basically tie her up against the door.
Hmm, I hum to myself, then dance off to the shower.
It’s as large as the bathtub beside it, making it a silly use of space. Who needs benches in a shower?
I cant my head.Well, actually…I can think of a few sensual purposes. Noting those ideas for later, I work on rinsing the paint from my skin. It feels weird to expose myself in this way, but I want Ailsa to know me. The real me. Whoever he may be.
Craze de Hatte.
Mad Hatter.
My lips twist. I’m not… insane. Of course, that’s exactly what someone who has lost his mind would think. Which makes it impossible to know.
So I’m about seventy percent sure I still have my sanity. Or maybe closer to sixty percent.
I shake my head. The fact that I’m even considering this is ridiculous enough. There’s a naked blonde in the other room, one who may wake at any moment. I would prefer that to happen when I’m stretched out beside her.
I want to see her reaction to my face.
The real me.
Craze. Just Craze.
Will she scream? Try to fight? Run away?
All notions are arousing.
I hum a tune under my breath, the song one I haven’t considered in years. It’s ancient, like me. Like Catum. Like Krolic.
Ancient compared to our Omega, anyway.
Whistling the hymn, I finish my shower and grab a towel, then saunter back into the bedroom where our sleeping beauty is resting in the large feather-padded bed.
Gorgeousis definitely the nickname I’m keeping for her.
Rabbitmay need to go. She’s not very skittish. Dainty, yes. But there’s a strength to her that I find quite admirable.
It’s an impressive feat to fall down the rabbit hole into Monsterland and still retain a sense of wit.
I shake out the droplets from my hair, then head back into the bathroom to continue drying off.
The closet beside it is stocked with everything I could possibly need—pants, shirts, boots, undergarments.
