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Tales from Crestfall: Whispers from the Quarry Highlight

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Hello. I am the angel of death, kicking butts and taking souls. And this is a tale from Crest Fall. Violet was old enough to understand their work monsters in her closet with giant horns and purple for But she was not yet old enough to understand that sometimes monsters could look like people. She was bright on. She saw the world with more hope than most. It was a warm late summer night. Violet sat on her bed, staring into space. She was thinking about her mother. It had only been three months since she had passed away from an unexpected killer squirrel attack. Her mother had worn a new perfume that smelled a little too much like pecan pie on the squirrels had gone nuts. Violet was the one who bought her the perfume. The horrific details of the incident plagued her nightmares. The gnashing teeth of squirrels, mothers, agonizing screen sound of flesh being tourney from bone violent shuddered. She checked herself in the mirror, but only briefly, just enough time for her to see that her outfit was cute, but not long enough that she had to look herself in the eye. Tonight would not be about sad things tonight. It was time to have some fun. She knew she had to be quiet As she descended the stairs from her room, she held her tennis shoes close to her chest. She counted the steps, making sure to skip the fifth, which had a telltale creek. Her feet padded softly on the scuffed wood floor. The front door was mere feet away. Where do you think you're going? Oh, hey, Dad, I'm going out with some friends. Not at this time. You're not. It's just Net and Jackie, Jackie with the ripped jeans and and Ned with the jazz allergy. I don't think so. They're fine, Dad. Come on, Vie! Who's allergic to jazz? The kid. Here's a saxophone and breaks out in a rash. That's nice. We're just going to play a game. Well, play it tomorrow, but we're meeting up now. Can't you just trust me, Dad? What? Like I trusted you with your mother. The confines perfume should never have listened to you. Violet left before putting on her shoes. Violet, Ned and Jackie were at their usual spot, an abandoned cabin rumored to be haunted by the ghost of a dead rubber duck salesman, but they knew better. There was no such thing as a rubber duck salesman. The cabin looked over an old quarry. At the center of the quarry was a pool of dark water. All right, The game is simple, folks. Two points if you catch the marble one. If it rolls into the gutter and negative 100 if you lose it when it lance. If the marble bounces three times on the roof, that's a double downer. If it ricochets off the tree, that's a grandma special with a fine, fickle penalty. If you get a penalty, you really die well, less than five, and you have to dance for the rest of the game. Well, more than 15, and you have to hide, and we get to decide whether we want to go find you or not. What if we don't want to hide? Then you lose the game. You're just making up the rules. All rules were made up, by the way. Thanks for letting me borrow your marble net. The kids commenced their game. Alright. Double donor for violent Yes, man. Two points for Jackie. Line this up. Come on, Come on. A No Grandma Special for Ned, And so on through the night they enjoyed each other's company. They were each an outcast in their own way. Ned was the subject of constant bullying from their schools marching band because of his allergy to jazz. Shortly after his father left him and his mother to pursue his dream of becoming a saxophonist for the Idaho Symphony Orchestra sucker, Jackie was a self proclaimed loner. She wore eyeliner so black her eyes almost vanished entirely. She sat alone at lunch, even though violent and net for her friends. She made a habit of pushing people away e that one too far. And then there was Violet. Nothing will make you an outcast like the death of a parent. No one knows what to Sadio. The knowledge of tragedy alone was enough to make people uncomfortable talking to her. That night, however, loner smiled together. They they were safe from the pains of everyday life. They could play there silly game forever