Information
Botch_239 has a minion!
Minion the Prismatic Slime
Minion the Prismatic Slime
Botch_239
Legacy Name: Botch_239
The
Blacklight IrionOwner:
DunwichAge: 9 years, 1 month, 1 day
Born: April 1st, 2015
Adopted: 8 years, 8 months, 3 weeks ago
Adopted: August 10th, 2015
Statistics
- Level: 5
- Strength: 13
- Defense: 3
- Speed: 13
- Health: 15
- HP: 10/15
- Intelligence: 1
- Books Read: 1
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
You knock twice, and later a moment of waiting, knock again.
"come in! It's open!" called a cheerful,feminine voice from within.
You reach for the knob but hesitate, the hair standing up on your arm. An awful dread had set in, but you disregard it as new customer jitters and decide to knock once more.
The door pops open readily this time, swinging open to reveal and lovly living room, antiques adorning the walls and shelves. A cold gust seemed to be travleing around the house, as it scrapes your face when you peer in further.
"Come in! It's open!"
you stop and glance around, setting your site on a hallway, where the voice seemed to chime from.
"I'm here, you needed your sink fixed?" Silence answers you and you set down your toolbox, taking a step in.
"Ma'am i'm not allowed in withou-"
running footsteps cut you off, somewhere from a higher floor.You look up,squinting at the ceiling- the house did not appear to have a second floor from outside...or even an attic.
"Come in, It's open!"
the same tone,same voice. Now some kind of animalistic warning alarm is going off in your head and you step back out the house. Something isn't right.
Your feet planted firmly on the stone steps outside the threshold, you gulp, "Ma'am are you alright?? Should i call someone?"
silence for a moment, then the same voice, the same Phrase hits you again,loudly almost as if the speaker was screaming in your face,
"COME IN,"
you shout and fall backwards, covering your ears
"ITSSSSS OOOPPEEENNNN!!"
flailing wildly you scramble backwards from the steps, quickly trying to get to your feet, every cell urging you to run for your life.
You find your footing and turn to run, but stop-Your tools!!
Your boss will kill you!
Turning back to the door, the visage of a young woman stands in the threshold, her hair black as tar and wet, her yellow sun dress splattered in mud and filth,
"come in.." this time she whispers, and the sound makes your very core crack in fear, you turn and run ,now readily leaving the company toolbox at the ghouls dirty feet.
"it's open..."
"come in! It's open!" called a cheerful,feminine voice from within.
You reach for the knob but hesitate, the hair standing up on your arm. An awful dread had set in, but you disregard it as new customer jitters and decide to knock once more.
The door pops open readily this time, swinging open to reveal and lovly living room, antiques adorning the walls and shelves. A cold gust seemed to be travleing around the house, as it scrapes your face when you peer in further.
"Come in! It's open!"
you stop and glance around, setting your site on a hallway, where the voice seemed to chime from.
"I'm here, you needed your sink fixed?" Silence answers you and you set down your toolbox, taking a step in.
"Ma'am i'm not allowed in withou-"
running footsteps cut you off, somewhere from a higher floor.You look up,squinting at the ceiling- the house did not appear to have a second floor from outside...or even an attic.
"Come in, It's open!"
the same tone,same voice. Now some kind of animalistic warning alarm is going off in your head and you step back out the house. Something isn't right.
Your feet planted firmly on the stone steps outside the threshold, you gulp, "Ma'am are you alright?? Should i call someone?"
silence for a moment, then the same voice, the same Phrase hits you again,loudly almost as if the speaker was screaming in your face,
"COME IN,"
you shout and fall backwards, covering your ears
"ITSSSSS OOOPPEEENNNN!!"
flailing wildly you scramble backwards from the steps, quickly trying to get to your feet, every cell urging you to run for your life.
You find your footing and turn to run, but stop-Your tools!!
Your boss will kill you!
Turning back to the door, the visage of a young woman stands in the threshold, her hair black as tar and wet, her yellow sun dress splattered in mud and filth,
"come in.." this time she whispers, and the sound makes your very core crack in fear, you turn and run ,now readily leaving the company toolbox at the ghouls dirty feet.
"it's open..."