( it got inside. surprisingly, in a quiet manner that not many would suspect it'd make. no mimicry to fit a human-like appearance or scratching made by elongated claws almost fused into skin. however, as it got inside, skin begins to mold and tear into one of its disguises. )

I LIKE THE COLD. :)

THE COLD FEELS NICE. :)

( a loud crash, one made of splintered wood and all. it slowly stumbles backward; face twisted and deformed akin to clay. it stares ... and stares, but eventually resumes its approach. a claw-like hand now grasps firmly on the artist's face, keeping him from moving. )

( back to davis, it mimics. a cruel and almost terrifying way to see things through someone's last moments: a father that cared so deeply carved into a creature's distinguished features. loud ... long laughter ensues as the grip gets tighter. tighter and tighter. )

( it stares. it breathes in an almost labored manner, staring with glassy eyes now just barely resembling dark eye-bags. of course, 'benji' isn't going to leave, now its got sights on someone else this time. the more he doesn't move, the more it'll perfectly mimic him. )