CRACK
Its neck snaps under her heel.
The roar in her ears becomes the rush of her gasping breath becomes the soft scratch of the grit on the sidewalk as she drops to her knees.
She savors the stillness. It's a feeling she normally only gets from buses and subways- the freedom from everything that was hurting her. The escape from life. It's pleasant, even as her nerves start announcing that there are some problems here vis a vis skin and rips therein. She'll have to scrounge some bandages or something.
Blood is pooling under the Things. Her hand tightens on the knife. Her legs lift her up. She's not telling them to do this.
"fuck."
Her body moves to the pool, dipping the blade in, walking smoothly to the street.
"fucking..."
Circles. It's always the circles, then the marks, little heiroglyphs she's never seen anywhere else. But they're big now, traced out across the street in cooling blood.
The moment she gets her body back, she throws the knife away from her and turns to the wall, shivering. "Fucking disgusting... What the fuck, what the fuck..."
Then, the sirens scream through the fog.