“He was not responding. His wife has just died. He had only, a short time ago, gone from being cared for by his mother, to being cared for by his wife. He was barely an adult, himself, and was confused. He couldn’t be allowed to believe Paula. “Maria did not think he is a monster. Now, how about his father?” Bonita held her breath and looked for the answer in his face and eyes, past anything he might say. “No, you’re right. If Maria knew that he wasn’t a monster, then he isn’t.” Even though Jose... decided to honor his wife’s beliefs, Bonita did not see any conviction in his stare, nor hear it in his words. That night, he left the baby alone with Bonita and the dead mother. Only a sheet covered her, stitched up and ready. The infant was awake and looked around. He looked up at a coalescing shadow in the corner of the room. It collected into a darker form, with obsidian, damned features. The baby watched with knowing eyes and listened with consenting ears as it whispered. Any other child would’ve lost their mind, watching this cold, stygian thing form itself out of the unhallowed particles that clung to and encompassed the night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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