Little girl. Screams. Bird taste good, but not as good as these children. I can see auras. These ones are... Peculiar. Peculiar children.

I like them best. Normal are okay too, but these ones are bone crunching juicy tasty. My wight has found good ones. The small girl has a burny coco taste. The boy next to her pops into a small fuzzy creature. Shape-shifter. Take, tounges lash out I can feel him, all wiggly and noisy.

Little children are too noisy.

I move on.

Lurchy, giggly steps. Still hungry.

I take advantage. I know they can't see me. They cower in a corner. My wight has kept them. They shake, grabbing.

So I lurch forward, and wrap tounges around the one in front. She screams, and tears fall.


I like salty.

If I can make them cry, they will be more salty.

So the next one I eat slowly, and he is salty.

And the next one.

And the next one.

They all salty.

And good. I like this. So I laugh. And the Peculiars cry more.