Walter was one of many pains, many hurts. It made his very veins, his curse. He would see the Abyss as night, and become listless when it became light. It made perfect logic that I would change what made him tick.
Walter went to sleep this time with his toys lining his walls. I observed his slumber, and like all little boys, made him wake when he heard a toy fall. His eyes darted to and fro, looking for me. He searched high and low, but couldn't even see. Deciding to go back to sleep, Walter confirmed there was no crook. I smelt his fear seep, however, and made his toys creak and made them look. Their plastic eyes didst pierce, their grins did form. I made his delicious fear most fierce, yet was only a calm before the storm.
Walter saw the event before him, and shuddered. With his hope now most dim, I moved his toys, they cluttered. I made them my own, I made them talk. I performed what I wished to be shown, I made them walk. I made them dance around this boy, I made them bicker. I made the innocent my toy, I made his playthings snicker.
My crescendo was in play, I rose before his paralyzed face a simple mirror. It had to be this way, the highpoint of his fear was growing nearer! I showed him everything in the Abyss. Showed him what he was running from. If Walter had any fluids, I would be smelling piss. The time for Poor Walter, has come.
My rotted fingers turned Walter's head as I matched his eyes. He realized his pursuer was already dead, and that not all that ceases to live, dies. I reached into his mind, showed him the pain within. Slowly coiled Realization would unwind.
For he saw that he had become a boy of Porcelain.
Walter went to sleep this time with his toys lining his walls. I observed his slumber, and like all little boys, made him wake when he heard a toy fall. His eyes darted to and fro, looking for me. He searched high and low, but couldn't even see. Deciding to go back to sleep, Walter confirmed there was no crook. I smelt his fear seep, however, and made his toys creak and made them look. Their plastic eyes didst pierce, their grins did form. I made his delicious fear most fierce, yet was only a calm before the storm.
Walter saw the event before him, and shuddered. With his hope now most dim, I moved his toys, they cluttered. I made them my own, I made them talk. I performed what I wished to be shown, I made them walk. I made them dance around this boy, I made them bicker. I made the innocent my toy, I made his playthings snicker.
My crescendo was in play, I rose before his paralyzed face a simple mirror. It had to be this way, the highpoint of his fear was growing nearer! I showed him everything in the Abyss. Showed him what he was running from. If Walter had any fluids, I would be smelling piss. The time for Poor Walter, has come.
My rotted fingers turned Walter's head as I matched his eyes. He realized his pursuer was already dead, and that not all that ceases to live, dies. I reached into his mind, showed him the pain within. Slowly coiled Realization would unwind.
For he saw that he had become a boy of Porcelain.
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