Come

You know all those things you don't want to be real? Those things, those HORRIBLE things your parents told you were in your imagination? They were dead wrong.



I have a theory that, somehow, children can see them. For some reason, adults can't. Or won't. They're gruesome creatures, really. I don't find it pleasurable to see them.

Their skin, cracked and stretched, seeping horrible smelling liquids. They watch you through eyes, if you can call them that, they're more like large holes where their eyes should be.

They can disguise themselves as anything, though they seem to like the shape of a lost little girl the best. They lure you to empty buildings, claiming their parents aren't home and they need you to stay, then they tear you open and rip your skin off and put it on the furniture.

They take your eyes and mount them on the wall, and they take the organs they ripped out and hang them from the ceiling fans. I would stay away from them if I were you. I'm telling you this, as a warning, because I don't want you to suffer. They're gruesome, cruel, evil little creatures. The dementia patients? They go insane from seeing us. Oops... Did I say us? That's right. I did. Turn around. I'm lost and my parents aren't home. I need you to come in with me.