. . . a perfect cover for the shapeless stalker of innocence. Phantom visions of blood and other bodily fluids smeared on children's clothes fill the monster's head. Incoherent thoughts blunder through its mind, lost in the haze of delusion and miscarried morals that seem to steer this maddened, broken being into the night time and again. . .searching.
Searching.
For what?
For that?
That looks nice. It'll do just fine.
With a muffled moan, the beast shuffled toward its next victim.
A child of 7 perhaps, asleep in his bed. The beast's phallus grew as it crept through the window toward his helpless slumbering prey.
With a shiver on his spine, the boy awoke and sleepily blurted: "Michael Jackson?"