Daniel Ellsworth’s day would have been better if not for the bird faced demon in his bathtub, as welcome as a herpes sore on a virgin's face. He saw it out of the corner of his eye after he turned the light on, right as he was reaching for his razor and shaving cream. He had bought both at the dollar store last week, where the other thing had happened in the pet supply aisle.
The demon was crouched down behind the shower curtain, the bulk of it a spindly shadow. It had an incredibly gaunt human body, like a prisoner from the Boer War. The body supported a head that was mostly an oversized bird's beak filled with tiny, irregular teeth; along the beak were a dozen beady eyes situated in rows.
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