I expected my drunk brother to be the 3 a.m. knocker, but what I got was a little girl and a box.
“My sisters and I are seeking donations for our food drive,” she said. “Can you spare a part?”
“Come back in the morning,” I answered exhaustedly.
The girl frowned, then knelt and opened the box. “But the lady next door donated.”
I froze when I saw the severed fingers inside.
From the darkness emerged four little girls with demonic yellow eyes. As they marched towards me, knives in hand, the little girl said, “Please, sir. Any part will do.”
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