The Glitter Man
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Hannah Matthew's smooth, olive skin turned pasty, white, and flat. It pulled tightly over her frame, leaving behind a flawless but unnatural finish that closely resembled a mannequin's. She reached up to touch her face, but her arm locked at the elbow, freezing her limb away from her side at a ninety-degree angle. It lodged squarely, refusing to move any further. She tried to speak but no words would form. A cheesy smile had welded itself onto her lips, one that would lead any passer-by to believe she was quite content. She could still speak, but she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. Her ey...
Hannah Matthew's smooth, olive skin turned pasty, white, and flat. It pulled tightly over her frame, leaving behind a flawless but unnatural finish that closely resembled a mannequin's. She reached up to touch her face, but her arm locked at the elbow, freezing her limb away from her side at a ninety-degree angle. It lodged squarely, refusing to move any further. She tried to speak but no words would form. A cheesy smile had welded itself onto her lips, one that would lead any passer-by to believe she was quite content. She could still speak, but she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. Her eyes remained frightened and frustrated, despite the story her face told. She had become trapped in the body of a mannequin. Others had been destroyed in this building as well. Nick Pearson had come here not long ago, and his entire body had become covered in thick scars. It happens to all of us. Every day we live, we die a little more. Something makes us scarred and lethargic, stealing our vivacity and our quality of life. Is it circumstances, or is it our choices? History proves we can't prevent our own demise. But what if there was someone who could? Meet the Glitter Man.
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