Once upon a time in a bustling village, there lived three unhappy beauties. They were most grievously unhappy, for the townsfolk said they were strange, and perhaps they were.
The three were sisters, though they were not, and they enjoyed many beautiful and dark things that others did not, especially lacy black veils, pretty books of magical charms, and sharp shiny knives. They also much preferred the colors of the midnight sky to the light airy clothes the villagers wore and preferred the gentle rays of the moon to the harsh burden of the sun.
Most of all, though, they…
It was the highest stakes game of rock-paper-scissors ever played.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
Another draw. We both sat back, exhausted. Sweat dripped from my forehead and I could feel my ears burning red. Joe sat across from me on the floor. His normally tan complexion had grown pale and there was a visible tremor in his shoulders.
“Twenty-seven out of fifty two?” He asked, wiping his nose on his sleeve. I leaned back against the wall. This was the highest stakes game of rock-paper-scissors ever played. To lose meant certain destruction, if not death. To win was freedom.