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“ Looey?” The piñata’s voice echoed throughout the dead silent hallway. It was a little dirty, but Tisha does have good eyes. Her footsteps carefully approaching her best friend’s room, stealthily twisting the doorknob with ease.
“ Looooooey???? Where are y—”She stopped in her tracks, her eyes darting up to the dangling clown.
All she could see was a chair. A rope.
Is that what’s she’s thinking about?
A bow was scattered onto the floor, and she picked it up.
Slowly, she snaps out of her daydreaming and glancing at the dead corpse in her hands.
She smells a rotting stench. She wants to take a closer look. She wants to take a bite into it.
What is wrong with her? No, actually, what the HELL is wrong with her?
It’s tempting her.
Why not?
Her canines rip the flesh off of Looey’s rubbery head, and surprisingly, he didn’t explode.
The taste is…also pretty average.
A black substance drools from her mouth.
She giggles, a wicked grin on her face.
Perhaps, everyone has a different taste?
She’ll have to know, soon.