Peppermill II

Playing for Keeps

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Garret's body stood suspended in the air, perfectly still, his chest cavity torn open and his ribs bent outward at an unnatural angle. His expression was frozen in the half-hearted smirk he'd worn at the moment when he was abruptly silenced, though his eyes still seemed to track with my movements.

I took the doll—which looked like something midway between Betty Spaghetti and the Bride of Chucky—and placed it inside Garret's chest next to his still-beating heart. The ribs curled around it, snapping back into their shape, and Garret's body fell to the floor with a flat thud.

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