Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26342384-20150609222623

The creature loomed over him, and it made a horribly strange twisting motion. He heard a voice.

“Hello, Mr. Jones.”

The voice was…nightmarish. That was the only word his panicked mind could use to describe it. He heard it again.

“Hello, Mr. Jones. Aren’t you going to greet me? It’s rude not to.”

He quivered in fear, and he spoke.

“He-hello,” he squeaked.

This has to be a dream, he thought to himself.

“Oh, but this is very, very real,” the nightmarish voice said. Every time he heard that awful voice, the creature made that same twisting motion. Was that…how it spoke?

“Yes,” the voice said.

“Wha-what are y-you?” He asked.

“Well, we have already established I am real, yes?” The voice asked.

“N-no,” he responded.

The creature pulled out two long, sharply tapered limbs, and stabbed his arm. Waves upon waves of pain flowed through his body, and with each wave came a new onset of pain. Then, the creature retracted its limbs, and the pain stopped.

“I shall say it again. We have established that I am real, yes?” The creature asked.

“Y-yes, b-b-but tha—that’s impossible!” He replied.

“Oh, but nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it,” the creature said calmly, “but that begs the question. Why would you put your mind into creating something like me?”

“Well, that’s a question you should really be asking yourself, Mr. Jones.” 