I’d rather be working on the other story, too, but my head wasn’t in the game there. I’m trying to put MOUTHY up to Kindle Vella levels, because the original story was probably a little rushed. I need to take my time, really get my horror on for this one. I kind of have to, because nobody is ever gonna buy this story for their own magazine, let me tell ya…
So, my first mouthy. He wasn’t even on the screen for more than a few moments, and the cameras weren’t on him. He was off at the edge of the shouting crowd, and when he had his mouth closed he didn’t seem all that different.
Then he opened that mouth! Too wide, too wide, nothing like the mouths I remembered from before! The teeth! The tongue! The horrible grin as the camera passed over him! He knew the camera was there, too, because as I watched, transfixed at the sudden injection of monstrosity into my still-sane world, he waved, and stretched that grin out even further. He said something, too. Mercifully, the cameraman didn’t pick up whatever it was that he said.
Yes, I am aware that the mouthy was not waving to me. He could not see me, he did not know where I lived, and he was not coming for me. His sardonic mockery was a general thing, aimed at a world that somehow could not see his unnatural visage. I’m not mad, you know. I don’t give these things more powers than they have.
I still scrubbed and scrubbed the television screen until it was dull with scratches and industrial cleaner. Better safe, than sorry.