A phone call: we will make your life eternal hell, you’ll be tied to a rock for carrion birds to devour your insides; magically, we’ll keep remaking you, so that the birds can do it, again and again and again; we’ll kill your son, we’ll kill your siblings, we’ll kill your friends; you want a monster, we’ll give you one, wrapping its tentacles around you, smothering, poisoning you, dragging you into the ocean, drowning you forever. The phone went dead.
Casolaro hung up the phone, placed his face in his hands. What have I done, he thought, what madness is this that I’ve unleashed?
Casolaro should really get Caller I.D.
ReplyDeleteWhat a horrible phone call this would be to hear. Nasty, nasty, good stuff.