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Description
The clack of muffled glass echoed through the narrow alley. This was a favorite district for young, travelling businessmen. The neon from nearby venues tried to reach back into the dark space. Twisting pipes and refuse vibrated under the acidic light. The droning sounds of bass and club-goers barely penetrated the alley's thick, masoned defenses.

The Salesman found more success persuading customers to allow him to demonstrate his wares here. Stumbling patrons dizzy from drink, music, and women were much easier to entertain with his "curiosities" than the children had been. Their faces were never shaped right.

Dormaker parasites were a means to an end, nothing more. He didn't fully understand them but they responded to his commands with ease. There was but one way to ensure delivery. Months ago, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to accomplish the duty but it grew easier with every customer. Never more than one at a time of course; any more and the influence of the crowd normally won out. It had to be a person who hadn't realized they were alone yet. He would talk comforts to them, ensnare them with wonder, and promise more than he had the intention to deliver.

Glass clacked as he stood up to his full height. Something like a smile, stitched with pride, briefly flashed over his lips. His latest customer had been slumped back against the brick wall but now worked to raise itself, filth staining its collared shirt. There was never much blood when the jars were jammed into the face with the right amount of force. The Dormaker would quickly follow its instincts, scuttling over the place where a face had once been and settling into the back of the throat, extending a long abdomen down the gullet, like a hermit crab in a new shell.

The Salesman pulled out a wet hunk of something that resembled ribbed cartilage. It glistened and made a cracking, squishing sound as he squeezed it. Liquid ran down the length of his forearm, gathering at the point of his elbow. The newly born creature, reacting as if politely asked, followed as the Salesman made his way deeper into the alley, away from the light that ever struggled to illuminate the place.

Another loyal customer, he thought. Another addition to the plan.

Description
The clack of muffled glass echoed through the narrow alley. This was a favorite district for young, travelling businessmen. The neon from nearby venues tried to reach back into the dark space. Twisting pipes and refuse vibrated under the acidic light. The droning sounds of bass and club-goers barely penetrated the alley's thick, masoned defenses.

The Salesman found more success persuading customers to allow him to demonstrate his wares here. Stumbling patrons dizzy from drink, music, and women were much easier to entertain with his "curiosities" than the children had been. Their faces were never shaped right.

Dormaker parasites were a means to an end, nothing more. He didn't fully understand them but they responded to his commands with ease. There was but one way to ensure delivery. Months ago, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to accomplish the duty but it grew easier with every customer. Never more than one at a time of course; any more and the influence of the crowd normally won out. It had to be a person who hadn't realized they were alone yet. He would talk comforts to them, ensnare them with wonder, and promise more than he had the intention to deliver.

Glass clacked as he stood up to his full height. Something like a smile, stitched with pride, briefly flashed over his lips. His latest customer had been slumped back against the brick wall but now worked to raise itself, filth staining its collared shirt. There was never much blood when the jars were jammed into the face with the right amount of force. The Dormaker would quickly follow its instincts, scuttling over the place where a face had once been and settling into the back of the throat, extending a long abdomen down the gullet, like a hermit crab in a new shell.

The Salesman pulled out a wet hunk of something that resembled ribbed cartilage. It glistened and made a cracking, squishing sound as he squeezed it. Liquid ran down the length of his forearm, gathering at the point of his elbow. The newly born creature, reacting as if politely asked, followed as the Salesman made his way deeper into the alley, away from the light that ever struggled to illuminate the place.

Another loyal customer, he thought. Another addition to the plan.