(via dead birds)
They were lined up like porcelain dolls. Little bodies clothed in faded grey cotton, with large eyes that stared at her like opaque glass. She watched, transfixed, as he pushed his forefinger into one of the bodies. The flesh dipped and curved around his fingertip, malleable to his malevolence.
"They’re hollow," he said, a smile curling his lips. "Just like you will be when I finish with you."