@sewer-boat continued from here.
IT couldn't fathom what this little beast was prattling on about. For all the time IT spent replicating fear, the child psyche was still somewhat of a mystery. They had a pension for the ridiculous, the mad, the otherworldly. Half of them talked to stuffed animals and dollies for Gan's sake. For a moment, IT disregarded the outburst as nothing more than that. A childish, simple little tantrum.
Then, of course, IT hears that name.
That dead man's name. That cursed name.
IT sneered, practicing a restraint so unbecoming of itself. Instead, IT smiled, betraying the partial confusion for a moment. "---starve? Oh no, I can't have that." IT said gallantly, leaning forward to pick up the little brat by the scruff of his coat to get a better look at him. "---but why would I starve when I have such good meat here? Fresh to eat,":
IT paused again, scenting the air about. No, no registered presence of the aforementioned Mr. Gray. Was this some kind of trick? Holding the child higher, it continued. "---tell me, boy, did your friend send you to send his hate? Is that what this little game is? "
