“It’s old. It’s always hungry. And it calls itself Mr. Friendlyman.” “Why?” Flint spat out the window. “It’s very friendly to folks who bring it victims. I’d know. I was its friend for a while. Eventually, I didn’t even care if my victims were Black or white. I brought him little girls. He likes children a lot. He never showed himself to me again, but he did speak to me. Hell, he speaks to me to this day.
