But I’m afraid you wouldn’t make it through the cellar.
Now, if you don’t mind, I need to poke and prod your friends a bit. I need one susceptible so I can join you.
Didn’t I mention?
Oh yes, I’ll be joining the fun. I always do. It’s a devilish pleasure to slip inside the flesh. So warm and squishy and alive.
Two girls and two boys. How appropriate. Children, all of you. It makes me sad to think … well, regardless. I must admit how much I adore children. The adults who visit me are filled with so much suspicion, so much anger.
It’s not very tasty.
No, it’s the innocence I crave. The early, naked pangs of lust. The raw tang of fear. The idiotic pride. They are all spices in the stew.
Speaking of which, this girlfriend of yours is not to my taste. Did you know she’s abused at home? Her mind is quite dark and self-destructive. Also, she senses something. She’s smart, this one. If broken inside.
Let’s see … oh, this young man is something altogether different. And yet, he also has secrets. A lust for you! My darling! So sharp and strong … did you know? I wonder. He has quite the imagination, this one. A pornographic mind. Such savage desires. But also … doubts. Insecurities. He’s lonely. A sad sack of meat if there ever was one. He doesn’t even know I’m here, touching his insides, rummaging through his thoughts, dissecting his mind, his emotions. So common in boys. They don’t know how to look inward. Not like girls do.
Not like you, my cherub, my cream filling.
I’ll try the other boy now. My heavens, you’re all just like a box of chocolates! I’ll never know what I’ll get!
Oh my, oh my. I like this one. He’s nice.
Yes, yes. He’s perfect. I’m just going to sink in deeper ….
Oh God yes.
Like a warm bath.
He’s fighting me a bit, which is natural. Instinctive. Still, it makes taking over all that more fulfilling. Ha! He’s like a tiny fish at the end of the line. Fight fight fight, little one! Ha ha, marvelous!
But enough … yes, there we go. I feel a bit like Goldilocks finding the perfect porridge, the perfect bed.
Yes, of course I know all of the stories. All of the feelings you humans have. I relish them, honestly. It’s my favorite part when greeting visitors.
Taking their memories.
Glorious.
Good gracious, if you could hear him screaming in here! He knows now that it’s too late. Now that I’ve taken over. Now that I’ve moved in.
Of course, you don’t hear the screams, but I do. I love them. They’re the perfect orchestration to this new perspective. It’s wonderful, seeing you with his eyes.
I look around at the others. I practice a smile. I wiggle my fingers, feel the scratch and pull of his clothing against the skin.
By the way, looking around at myself through his eyes? It’s intoxicating. My walls, my ceiling, my floors. Look, look! The intricate crown molding, the lovely stone fireplace, the caked filth, the sticky spores, the damp air. I breathe it all in through my new orifice.
It smells heavenly.
It smells just like me.
Like home.
“Brad? What do you think?”
I turn toward you, still smiling. You’re so pretty, darling.
I can’t wait to get you alone.
“About what?” I say. The words come easily. They always do. A talent of mine, you know. I’m an extraordinary ventriloquist. I’ve had, after all, lots of practice. Decades, in fact.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”
Hmm. The other boy. Maybe he’s not as dumb as I thought.
I decide to take care of him first.
Ignoring the little snot’s question, I search deeper into Brad’s thoughts, his mannerisms. His screaming has slowed, but he’s still with me. Going mad, I assume.
“Nothing, I just don’t like it here,” I say, and drop the smile. Yes, Brad is quite the coward, isn’t he? The one who always gets dragged along into your adventures. The nerdy one, the bullied one. Did you know Brad owns a gun? Did you know that if I hadn’t stepped in, he might have used it one day? Maybe even on another child?
You should really be thanking me.
“Come on, Brad. It’ll be fun. This place is harmless,” you say, flashing your lovely green eyes my way. Your cheeks are so plump, your hair bursting with blonde curls. An angel fallen from heaven, truly.
I pretend to sulk, buying time. Honestly, I really don’t know what the question is. I was busy, you know? Taking over.
“Well ….” The other girl pipes up, trying to take ownership from you. I hate her. Her voice is shrill and vexing. I fight back the scowl reaching for my new lips. “I think we should play Truth or Dare,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows like a whore.
