[X] Let him go to school. He will eventually have to leave the nest and this would be good practice.
"I see. You wish to obtain the required apples through your own efforts."
He stared at it. Then, upon realizing that it was expecting an answer, he choked out a, "...yes?"
The thing pretending to be Tommy's Mom stared at him, its face covered in gore.
Whose? He had no idea. But he wasn't dumb enough to ask.
"Very well. Though I am unsure as to how old you are, my child, I understand that one day you will leave my grasp."
Could "one day" be in the next five minutes? Please?
"Upon that day, you will need to be able to take care of yourself."
It leaned closer. The smell of dried blood filled his nostrils. Tommy tried not to pee himself.
"Today will be your attempt at practice. Do well, and there will be another."
Some gore dripped down its nose and landed on his cheek. It was wet and slimy -- but it almost felt like it burned.
"...okay," he squeaked.
The thing wearing his Mom's skin stared at him. Its eyes were blank, like a doll.
Nothing like how his Mom used to be. Hers were angry and tired and annoyed and bored -- but never like that. Never dead.
That's how he knew. It might've looked like his Mom, sounded like his Mom, and was covered in blood like his Mom -- but those eyes. The way it talked. The way it moved was just --
He inched back.
It stared. Didn't even blink.
He inched back some more.
It stared. He wasn't sure if it was breathing.
Slowly, gradually, he shifted himself off the couch.
It stared. It didn't move is head, but its eyes tracked Tommy like a hawk.
He stepped towards the front door. Once, twice, three times.
It turned its head a full one eighty degrees and stared. Tommy was sure he heard the bones in his Mom's neck crack.
He stumbled over himself a few times because of how weak his legs were and how much he was shaking, but he managed to get his hands on the doorknob. Outside, he could hear cars. People.
It stared.
He didn't bother to get his backpack. Freedom was a turn away, and no amount of homework was worth risking that.
It stared.
He turned the knob. He could feel the cool breeze against his skin.
Almost there --
"Wait, my child."
Your child stopped. "Y-Y-Y-Yeah?"
[X] Offer your child their portable storage device -- or "backpack."
[X] Offer your child some human currency. It is needed for the trade.
[X] Give them affection. You are proud of their progress.
[X] Access your true existence in order to track your child remotely.
[X] Write in...
Your child leaves. The door makes a loud sound as it closes.
You listen to your child's rapid departure. It is... disquieting to see one you have vowed to care for leave your presence. Especially given their fragile and weak nature.
You know it is customary for children to seek "school" and thus, apples. Your gift giver's fractured memories indicate that your child has conducted such a ritual many times in the past. They will be fine.
And yet, you worry.
[X] Secretly follow your child. Should they come to harm, you will deal with the threat.
[X] Take the time to cleanse yourself. You do not believe it is customary for humans to be covered in their life fluids.
[X] Prepare further sustenance for your child's return. Your child will need more than apples to be sated.
[X] Recall your true existence. Seek --
-[X] Write in...
[X] Write in...
