001

It began with the sound of torn paper.

A sudden, deafening noise that made the windows rattle as if in panic, and was gone as fast as it had started. Leaving behind a thin fissure in the air in the middle of Anon Y. Mousse's kitchen.

It floated there for several minutes, unmoving and lifeless, until a viscous, vivid blue liquid started pouring from its bottom. Slowly but surely the liquid kept creeping out, almost as if with purpose, pooling into a flat circle on the floor. Flat indeed, for hours passed and the liquid kept pouring, but the circle did not expand in anything other than the depth of its color.
Once the trickle of this strange liquid ended, a second obnoxious noise as offending as the first one echoed, and the rip in the air was gone, leaving behind only the curious circle.

At the center of which a single yellow eye could now be seen, its slit pupil slowly pulsating like a heart.

It fixated on the open door nearest to it, from which a dim lighted room was situated, the light pouring from it clearly coming from the monitor of a computer.

The circle bulged, and expanded, and grew upright, assuming a humanoid form, and started slithering through the kitchen, towards the open door.

Soon it was walking. And every step was firmer, more decise. A head took form, and from the stumps near its neck came tentacles came arms came fingers. The skin still as blue as the twilight sky, a mouth ripping itself and exposing several rows of gleaming ivory fangs, eyes popping to life asymmetrically along all its body.

It entered the room. Its eyes focused all at once on the lone man sitting in front of a laptop. A predatory grin emerged. It leapt.

At the same time, the man turned around, perhaps by chance, perhaps because its presence had alerted his senses with its sheer wrongness. And upon witnessing the thing launching itself at him, a single brief sound escaped his lips: "Welcome back. How was your mother?"