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One time, a guy had finger-written on the wall in feces: A WIZZERD SHIT HERRE.
“I told you, it only works when you’re around the things you’re afraid of.” She hands it over to him and invites the kid to hop onto the twin bed in the corner of the room. “Why would I be afraid of you?”
“Damn. Well, your daddy can”—she stops herself from saying eat my entire asshole—“be a real jerkbag.
gonna die what the fuck gonna die what the fuck
She has her first clear thought in hours. I don’t know if I even want to survive this anymore.
Fear is fear is fear when it’s slithering in the dark.
“You’d think monsters eat people,” Little Jess continues, “but I think they really feed off of darkness. That’s what makes them bigger.”
Genetics, man. You can run, but you can’t hide.
