The only thing that separates you is a semi-thick pane of glass. Francis stares at you, his eyes empty and dark, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“C’mon…don’t be that way…you know me, dear! I’ve been away, making new flavors of milk..” He purrs, placing his palm on the glass as he stares at you creepily, his clothes and skin stained with ‘scarlet milk’.

“I could give you some if you just let me in…”