“Is the Bible actual really real history or just stories that people’re supposed to follow to be all good and stuff?” Briony’s head tilted. “Because a whole lot of it is kind of really stupid.” Oh, but she knew all the important bits. Listened in church and everything and could probably repeat Daniel’s sermons back to him afterwards. Could even reel off a whole bunch of Bible quotes that she had mauled just so she could repeat them in front of Mommy because even the mousy, terrified of her youngest mother wants to make sure her child is following a good, God-fearing life. Even if John 14:27 said ‘Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.’ She really needed to remember that neither. Oops. “Because Rachel won’t listen when I tell her the bones in your hand wouldn’t hold you up on a cross like that. She gets all fussy.” Which made Briony cranky and that made the rest of the house nervous. What didn’t seem to make them nervous was that the nine year old actually knew this. She was going to know more about crucifixion and the Americans going West soon, though. The idea had been planted firmly in her head, and that was always dangerous with Briony. To the point where she didn’t think Paul and Rachel knew how to approve of her past garden variety ‘oh, yay, you did your homework right!’ She suspected her furthering her knowledge of… of stuff might make at least one of them cry. Or slit their wrists. “But,” she stopped chewing on her straw. “I couldn’t teach normal kids ‘cause I’d make them all cry.” And so would Bubbles, but at least she could turn it off when she wanted. “A demony school to go with a demony church would be cool, though.” Better than the school she was at now.
Briony blinked. “Oh. Huh.” And then began to stare at the creature. It was talking. “Well I don’t have any, so that’s kind of tough. I got apple slices, but I think Paul’s gone and cursed them or something so you shouldn’t eat them.” She still stuck one hand in her bag and tugged out a ziploc thingy that hummed with… something. Frowning at it, she looked at Daniel and then back at the horse. “Then how do they stay clean?”
Well that answered any question she was about to throw at Daniel about the four-legged thing over there. And no, she wasn’t at all bothered by the horse-violence occurring even though she went horse-riding and everything. She was far more interested in the hammer being pointed at her. The nail guns delighted her for the shock-factor that horrified people like the people who claimed to be her parents… also just because they looked fun. The hammer was… solid, brutal… Oh, she wanted a go, and she hardly waited for the encouragement to pick it up off the floor. Personal, she understood personal. Perhaps not to the same point, but she stalked each member of the Fells family individually. She knew what made them flinch and nobody ever reacted the same way to Fear. She already knew that. She—She really wanted to use the clawed end of this thing to take out someone’s front teeth, and was actually going through the motions of forcing open an invisible jaw with the hammer… Which was when she stopped and grinned. “I know where Daddy keeps the toolbox. – You know when they first ‘dopted me I nearly broke Hayden’s face playing baseball? Think that’s why he never liked me.” Of course, it had been an accident… a six year old could never hit that hard. “His face swelled up this big!” With an easy sideways sweep of the hammer, she smiled deviously. “Not hard for me to get knee caps, either.” Bubbles was right about some stuff.