It wasn't a joke that she'd terrorize this town. It was far from a game, the way she sauntered around breaking hearts and tearing lives into tiny little pieces. And.. it was anything but subtle, how she dolled herself up every night before she set out on stalking her next victim. Although she didn't like the word 'victim'. Instead, she chose 'playmate'. It was more fun that way, wasn't it?
You see.. Epic was a girly-girl. A harsher one of sorts, but still a girly-girl at that. She had beautifully manicured nails, gorgeous waves that habitually changed hue bi-weekly, and a body to die for. So yeah, physically she was a princess. Deep down, maybe more of a demon. But there's no use in name calling, is there?
"Thousands of times, Chloe, thousands.. I've told you I don't -care- what color they are, I want diamonds and I want them tonight."
Cellular phone, always a must-have. Rather, an extra appendage when it came to our girl. And her friend at the miserable other end of the line was sent on a mission to find us a diamond necklace, no matter the price, no matter who we [she] might have to sleep with to get it. In the meantime, Epic stood before the mirror in the boutique, scantily-clad in just a pair of lacey panties and matching bra, a dress smoothed in front of her figure, still on the hanger.
"Yes. Tonight. Don't fuck up, Chloe."
And the cellphone was shut.
And the dress was tossed at the salesgirl. Apparently, not what we were looking for. What -were- we looking for, anyway? Oh, shush. She's not sure. She's -never- sure.
You should know that by now.
