Mid-Autumn Madness

Mircea stared at him for a long minute and then glanced at his bloody spit that was drying up on the hem of her gown. Everyone was anticipating her next move, while she was eerily silent. She was still gazing at the spot where he spat. Promptly, she started roaring with laughter. 

The room temperature chilled at her expense. Even Carsten seemed worried about her. Her laugh bounced in the thick walls of the slammer. It carried an evil shimmer to it. 

Mircea peered down at his bloody saliva and doubled down on her laughter. 

"What is so funny?" Jerome queried quite perplexed by her behavior. 

One second she was laughing, the next she was face to face with Jerome, squeezing his neck, making him choke on his own saliva. Jerome's eyes widened, not one soul in the cell moved. There was not one movement in there except for Mircea.