Theme of the month

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Penny Dreadful
It’s not my speciality. The only thing I’ve ever considered killing is myself. I locked the door and tried to figure out the schematics in the dark, in the hedge, on the other side. Didn’t have the guts in the end; too much blood, too much mess. Much easier to smooth my skin into the clean lines of cold metal and bend my brain into the corners of the machine. Deus ex machina. That’s who I’ll be when I die. The god in the cogs. And then they’ll all be sorry. Who are they, anyway? I can’t remember any more.

Megan Piper
Oh all corvids are killers, honey. What, you think I’ve got a beak this sharp for nothing? Nah, we’re the most vicious predators there is, if you happen to be an aphid. I met an aphid once. Nice guy; glad he spoke up before he was lunch. I’da felt a bit guilty about that, though it’s all in the natural order of things. What, we’re all people, you say? Oh, don’t have a laugh. I haven’t been people in ages. No reason to remember how to, these days. Felicity Castafiore is dead. Killed by a flower; how’s that for irony?

Anna Ashley
Friend of mine said I was turning into a killer, once. I laughed in his face: fighting’s about living, not dying. It’s the survival that matters, not the kill. Sure, I killed that wolf that time, but that was back when old CARNIVORE was roaring in my eardrums and I hadn’t bested him yet. Fought him off in the end, too. Fought them all off, every last one. I’m Anna Ashley, the King of Hearts, and they’re all gone now and I won. “Who do you think you are, Anna? Queen of the world?” Yes, actually. Yes I fucking am.

Poppy Phillips
Are you having a laugh? Of course I’d kill for my kids, and any mum what says they wouldn’t should be taken down the social. I mean I wouldn’t do it myself, like, I’d get one of the boys on it, but it’s the same thing, ain’t it? And I would if I didn’t have no time to call someone. Dunno how I’d do it. I s’pose I think about this different to most people. I’m a Kemp, ain’t I? Why are you asking these fucking questions, anyway? Are you some kind of pig or something? I’m gonna call Joe...

Ruby Caligari
It’s right sobering to remember, but I’m a killer meself and all. Not intentional like - heaven forfend! I’ve built my whole life on saving people at nearly any cost, but sometimes you get summat wrong or sometimes you can’t meet the price, or sometimes even you maybe could but it’s just too high. And sometimes that feels like killin’, after, when the shift’s done and all you’ve got to do is soak yer feet and think about tomorrow. It ain’t, of course, but I have to try and understand the business now. Just look at the man I married.

Katarina Petrova
Giselle, Nikiya, Juliet, Odette. The Chosen of Spring. I have danced each of the great roles and I have died in nearly every one. Killed by love; killed by passion; killed by a man. Madam Dorefeeva once told me that I died with more grace than anyone she had ever watched, even than herself. I thought eternal youth would mean that I could dance till my feet took up into flames. I had not realised that I was to be a tragic heroine all over again. I hope I danced into death more gracefully than anyone they had ever watched.

Eliza Chance
I dunno what you mean, darlin’; gettin’ killed’s the best thing ever happened to me. And my little gaggle, oh, they all know it’s true for them and all, they just don’t say it sometimes. Nobody ever likes to suck up too much to mad old Ma, does they. But I made ‘em what they are, every last one of ‘em, and for better or worse I’ll love ‘em till they throw my ashes to the Thames. Now when we kill we kill together. But we play the slow game, darlin’, mark my words. This ain’t no short-con I’m running.

Zoe Black
I first began to believe in vampires when they killed my mother. I found her myself: pale, punctured, floated to the surface of the sea near our home. She had been weighted, but inexpertly - so much so that the stones had slipped from her lavender-satin pockets and she had come back to me even in death. I loaded her corpse again and watched her sink back into the gloom. It was easier to still be able to say that she had simply run away; abandoned our mansion and our island and our money for a life of her own.

Punch
Killing people is bad. I know because Haywalk says and also because I think Brutus does it and so it must be bad because Haywalk says Brutus is bad. I don’t know if he’s bad or not. He was sometimes bad to me but sometimes good and nobody can kill me anyway because I’m invunnrubble. That was Brae’s word. She knows more big words than Haywalk does, but Haywalk is cleverer than me too. Everyone is cleverer than me really. The goodest thing about me is how I can’t get killed. Sometimes I miss Brutus even though I’m not allowed.

Helen Penn
We live by a set of promises we do not even understand. Like Biblical scholars we puzzle and argue, interpret and translate. The wolf shall cleave to the human. The herd must not know. The People must not murder the People. But who are People, and what is murder? This is all a moot point, as now that I have had some time to reflect I find I no longer wish to kill them anyway. I wish to burn them, and brand them, and line their bones with silver. How is it that I have become alike to mine enemy?

Effie Haldane
I made my first kill at the age of twelve. I am eighteen now, and I have lost count. Furry little fuckers. Their hairs get stuck between my teeth. Their legs are all cartilage and marrow. My claws gather their leathery skin. There is nothing more satisfying or more foul than a spider. I have burned Glory into my paws with their deaths. Don’t fuck with a Haldane. I have crushed their eggs and burst their eyeballs. All eight of them. Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop. Do you see now why I had no time for school?

Georgina Perkins
Oh come now, darling, a lady doesn’t kill and tell. What’s the fun in a secret spilled, I ask you? I’m simply the most upstanding member of society, darling, and I’m frightfully offended that you’d think anything other. Oh, my husband? Freak heart attack; it was the most awful tragedy. I was utterly heartbroken. Oh, no, Flynn’s just fine. I had lunch with him just last week. You mean that poor man at the conference center? Please don’t make me go over it again, darling! It was the most awful trauma. I’m still having nightmares. Trust me, I’m a journalist.

Lily Starbright
Flowers die when you cut their stems, but I think it’s probably all cool. I go and talk to them sometimes, and they tell me that they live for the admiration and I keep them as comfortable as possible. Anyway, man, guilt’s bad for the soul; it stains your aura, and if you carry too much of it it weighs you down, stops you from seeing your path. There’s a time, a place for all things; you gotta keep the world in balance, or it tips right over. I never thought for a second I was really going to die.

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