Work Text:
“Cut here.”
It was just a doll, Charlie told herself. It was just a doll. There were some really hyper-realistic dolls in Hell; Velvette sold a lot of them. Illusion magic could do a lot.
The sniffling was an illusion. So were the wide, terrified eyes. It was just a doll.
Alastor’s voice tilted towards a colder firmness, like an iceberg in a shipping lane. “Go ahead, my dear. What are you waiting for?” His smile widened. “You already made the first cut, after all.”
It was just a doll. They had really well-made fake blood in Hell.
She cut.