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The lamp ᶠ ˡ ᶤ ᶜ ᵏ ᵉ ʳ ᵉ ᵈ . The once illuminated room became dULL-- certainly were the witch was seated })
Her atmosphere seemed radiantly calm which was a powerful understatement .Of Course. ❝Do you prefer to give pain?.. Or to receive it ?❞ᵗʰᵉᵈᶤʳᵗᶜᵒᵃᵗᵉᵈʷᶤᵗᶜʰʳᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ * Oh she'd give, Give and GIVE. And maybe {MAYBE} the odd receiver. She could bear it, unlike JUNE .
Her eyes BURNED + P I E R C E D the -decapitated - corpse before her; pleased from her work [ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈʸ ᵃʳᵗ ] .
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Why she's talking to a dead, shes not so sure herself ? b o r d e n ? Most likely.
WHAT IS AN OLD WITCH TO DO ?! Her ideas of fun had loosened- no more ideas, ideas gone . She dipped her toes in the Blood p u d d l e beside the man's head and painted it across the wooden floor, softly sighing through her nose . A visit !
*MIST, MIST * The lamp UN ᶠ ˡ ᶤ ᶜ ᵏ ᵉ ʳ ᵉ ᵈ . The illumination brightening up the Crimson stained floor and walls, now that the room was without her ghastly presence .