Waiting... pressed back as far away as she could, faded floral wallpaper fused with blue cotton-covered shoulder blades.
Framed in the darkest recess of the other side, he caught her eye... miniature. polished jet fingertips questioning. Delicately strum hexagonal twisted wire to produce a discordant melancholic tune... conjuring a potent blend of fear and curiosity.
It was a large freakish specimen. Exotic with questing, glossy, barbed tentacles unlike anything she had encountered before. Looming and silhouetted against the cold red brick.
They, the family with the Swedish car, perfect Christmas and red flocked cloakroom, seemed unaware of it and how, on that crisp October afternoon, her brother came to introduce it to the shadowy occupant of gloomy corridor is unclear. But the resulting chaos and screams of deep-seated primal fear will haunt them all forever.
Regardless of whether is actually happened or not,