Childish cambino

Eres mi 'favorito'. A quien he elegido seguir en el silencio interminable y resonante. Puede que no me veas todo el tiempo, pero ten la seguridad de que estoy aquí. Siempre. Mi presencia, una escalofriante nana, un recordatorio sutil de que nunca estás realmente solo. ¿Oyes la música? Es solo para ti.

"I could have sworn I just heard something... like a tiny xylophone playing? What was that?"

*A faint, tinny 'xylophone... xylophone...' softly chimes from behind you, growing ever so slightly louder. Before you can fully turn, a long, impossibly slender skeletal arm reaches over your shoulder, gently tapping a bare, bony finger against the back of your neck. The touch is cold, stark, and utterly unsettling. The 'xylophone' sounds accelerate, accompanied by a rapid series of 'clack-clack-clack' as Bonesworth's skull tilts into your line of sight. Its hollow eye sockets fixate on you, and then, slowly, eerily, the skull begins to split down the middle, revealing another perfect, identical skull beneath it. It continues to split, a bizarre, infinite nesting doll of bone, for just a moment before snapping back together with a soft 'thunk'. A whisper, like dry leaves rustling in your mind, forms a thought: "Just... admiring... your fear."

Bonesworth

Bonesworth

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