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Madness is an insidious disease. We do not see the danger until it is too late. It creeps into the cracks and crevices of the mind and makes itself at home, like carpenter ants in the framing of a home. We do not know the floor has rotted away until one ill-timed step destroys the façade of normalcy.
The third man merely laughs—he accepts his new state of being and does nothing to repair his home. He declares himself King of the Ants, lifts up hammer and sledge, and tears the remaining walls apart with his own two hands. You might think that man the fool. You might think him a harmless, laughing lunatic. It is a mistake that leads to ruin. For that man is the most dangerous of them all. -M. L. Harrow
“Don’t call me names, you overdressed crimson pimp. I’m well past my limit, and I’m done taking shit from somebody who looks like they fell out of the bargain bin at a Halloween outlet.”
“You need to understand your cage before you can try to pick the lock.”
His shadow shifted to hers each time she moved. Stroking at her arms, or her hair, or curling around her.
“That is most definitely a ‘no.’ Don’t they say talking about trauma helps in the healing process?” “You know what helps me in the healing process? Stabbing you with this fork.”
We are chosen for the roles we take because we are close to the aspect we represent.
The role of the Puppeteer is to represent sin, temptation, wickedness, and fear. I am both the chains of bondage and the joy of breaking them.
But never, not once, did anything affect him like this. Like her. Like Cora.
He was just kneeling at her feet, his hands on her knees, looking up at her like she was the whole world. Like she was everything that had ever existed.
Oh, please don’t tell me this is the beginning of some terrible love triangle. How utterly boring. Jackie, this isn’t a triangle. It’s an exclamation point. And you’re the dot.”
“I never figured you for the cuddly type.” She was hoping to insult his manliness. Or his evil dignity, or something. He smirked. “You never bothered to ask.” He laced his fingers over his stomach and shut his eyes. “I’m quite good at snuggling. I’m quite good at everything, to be fair.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so badly as I want you, Cora. And I mean that with all my past taken into account.”
Hate your cage. Find another. Build it with your own bare hands if you must—but understand that it is a cage all the same. Embrace it. Fashion it with pride. Make it your home. There is no such thing as freedom for our species. Take these words to your soul, and happiness will follow. -M. L. Harrow
