The Mass

The army arose and stared menacingly at me. Their clothed faces sent my mind into a strategically rendered frenzy. How would I escape? The smallest child stepped forward and removed his mask. I covered my mouth in horror. In the absence of lips he revealed a set of crooked rotten teeth. One of his eyes were missing and the socket had begun to droop. The small patches of his once golden hair moved slightly in the wind.

“We would like to play,” spoke his demented childlike voice. The others started to move forward all removing their masks. The smell of rotting flesh drifted through the air. I reached out longingly towards the boy who was once my son then I bolted towards the woods and never looked back.