The Calcium Caller
Footsteps like dice rolling across the ground, skittering piano key plinks lightly plod along floor boards. A horror stalks the farmstead moving from cabin to cabin, barn to barn. With each stall explored the intruder seems to have grown larger, fuller, denser. The once light footsteps have becomes thudding, booming footfalls. Following the tracks the prints seem to jump in size rapidly from a child, adult and finally to giant.
Each victim left behind has become a puddle of flesh and muscle. Any trace of a bone has been stripped out and sucked clean. Nothing remains to keep the poor soul straight and upright, horrified eyes swim in a pile of putty like tissue.
An odd whistling can be heard upon the wind, eerily dry and quiet like old parchment and sandpaper. Upon the hill it plays, twisting and turning, leaping and spinning all the while playing its bone flute.
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