I’m staring at it through the glass of my front door.
It's smiling at me. I don’t know how I know that. It doesn’t have a mouth or nose (how does it breathe?) but the way it’s looking at me… I know it’s smiling.
It wants me to let it in, but I know I can’t.
Jeff is screaming again. That’s a mistake. It drags its serrated claws across his face. I can't help but cringe and it...smiles harder; eyes shining as it preens.
Jeff is whimpering now, begging me to open the door, but I know better. It won’t help. I wish he’d just shut up, because it doesn’t like it when Jeff makes noise. It doesn’t want anything to take my attention away.
I watch as its skin starts to stretch and rip, from the center of its sickly yellow face all the way to its ears forming a perfect smile.
I know what’s coming and I don’t even scream as the two inch razor teeth tear out Jeff’s throat; his blood sprays across my porch.
It dips its claws into Jeff’s neck over and over as it uses the blood to paint the window between us. First a large circle, then two smaller circles inside the first and finally a large curve- oh! A smiley face.
It drops Jeff. As it leans in close to the glass, its own horrid smile, now knitting itself together, blends with the bloody smile on the window.
Just before its skin closes together it places a kiss to the gorey lips of the smile.
And then the glass cracks.
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