“Have you ever heard about ‘The Muncher of The Broken’” I lean in, almost touching the childs freckled face. A grin escapes my mouth at the sight of her freightend face.

“It is said that the creature stalks its prey with an almost perpetual grin smeared across the gaunt mask of a face”

The faint beginning of a cry contorts her lips and a tremble appears. I feel nothing. Where my empathy once was, there is now only a hollow space.

“Some argues that this hollow creature of the night munches entirely on children with red hair and freckled faces,”

Once again, her face almost crumples from the fear bursting from within.

I let out a sigh before almost whispering:

“But don’t worry, he’s just a tale,”

The crispy sound of paper fills the room as I crumble a note between my gnarly fingers.