Crystal
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Crystal
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Katrina Medina
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Mace Styx
Darryl stared at her, wanting to tell her to knock it off, that the joke wasn’t funny. But Crystal stared back at him blankly, watching him struggling to even form basic questions. He knew she wasn’t kidding. It was an animalistic instinct that words didn’t have the hope of matching. Logic and reason had left the building.
“Wondering why you can barely talk? Why it’s so hard to even move?” Crystal asked him in a patronizing lilt, like a children’s TV presenter. She wiggled the glass in her hand, mockingly toasting him, before clinking it against his own, which sat nearly empty in his limp hand. “Cheers!”
“You...drugged...” he managed to grunt.
“Drugged you? Yep. You have so many pills of dubious quality in that medicine cabinet of yours, it wasn’t hard,” replied Crystal nonchalantly, shrugging. “Surprised, aren’t you? I bet you never thought your hot little piece of ass girlfriend could use her dumb blonde brain to think that up. Well, f--k you, Darryl Hindley. You don’t know anything, especially not what people around you really think. They’re barely people to you, aren’t they? They’re more like toys you play with before chucking them away. They’re disposable to you, aren’t they?”
©2020 Mace Styx (P)2021 Mace Styx
