Test Of Faith

Ash was hunching her shoulders now.

For the seventh attempt, that's how far hatred had gotten me. Progress was slow, but it was gradual. It was no longer a matter of 'if' but a matter of 'when'... when I'll make her fall, when I'll make her break.

Not enough hatred, not for this time.

"Again."

Maybe this time…

I wasn't breathing hard as much. Like her, I could keep myself steady, it stopped being much of a struggle. Practice makes perfect. 

I held my arm out again, stared at her again… those unblinking eyes of hers, they always start out looking at me like that… empty, cold, like a doll without a soul.

But they never stayed that way for long. She'd always come rousing back to life. This time as a flinch, a small furrow in her brow. I pretended not to see it, I didn't see it - she was just a doll… unfeeling.