They did something to
him, those loose limbed, laughing people.
Something poured out of
them, into the bloody, ragged holes were the young man’s eyes had once
been.
Something black and
oily.
When they were done, they
stepped back.
The young man stood, his
bones popping and cracking.
His body jerked
hard.
Then he lifted his head.
He joined in the chorus
of sick, haunting laughter.
“Ren John, what are you
watching?”
Nora was walking up
behind me.
I tell her it was
nothing. I was just on watch.
I turned her away from
the window, leading her back to the bedroom that we all shared.
She could be spared this
one horror.
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