The Crypt-Keeper

1, 2, 3, 4. 5…100 finally!

Apple’s hair is now sufficiently
brushed for the evening.

Apple has always been absorbed
with vanity, to levels that would surpass
Narcissus. Young, gorgeous, out for blood.

Destined to be with men who will never
adore her for who she is, only for the
flawless visage that accompanies this
perfect body. Evil followed Apple
regardless of the current path

or direction her cruel disposition
always controlling her actions, one
perhaps could say there is not a single
redeeming bone in Apple’s body. The silent
secrecy of how her twin sister Abbagail

died in their crib at the tender
age of 24 months fuelled by her rage
and blood-lust. Abbagail was destined
to be the good witch of the Sun
and Apple the Evil of the moon.

During the witching hour, Apple awoke to
see her sister snuggled up beside
her with the pallid light of the little
Glo-hippo she’d received as a gift that
Winter Solstice. Apple had been visited

by her Great Great Great Grandmother’s
essence her body buried decades before.
Damonia had cursed the offspring of her
offspring because there was a
battle to create a legitimate heir from

her bloodline. Damonia transferred
her powers to Apple, once the evil
core took refuge in Apple’s little being
her sardonic marrow grabbed the tiny
Glo-hippo tight-fisted in her child-sized

hand, breaking off pieces while crashing
the toy on Abbagail’s fragile skull,
Apple kept pounding her poor lifeless
twin until her mother frantically found
her way to the room, crimson blood

splattered the walls in a fashion that
would make Dexter proud. Tristan took
Abbagail’s pathetically mangled body
in her arms while the blood curdling
screams kept alternating with endless

weeping. Meanwhile, Apple frolicked in
her sister\’s plasma marking her body —
Abbagail’s innocent blood permanently
scared Apple with unfamiliar shapes
and symbols she would not comprehend
until she had significantly aged.

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