Worry.

Sits in your abdomen, tugging at your insides.

How he finds his way in there, no one is quite sure.

Regardless, he entertains himself by pulling on your throat, vocal chords and spine.

He wraps his pale, bony fingers around them and slowly squeezes, a Cheshire cat smile spreading across his large, thin mouth.

Bulging, dark eyes, blocked by a curtain of white, wiry hair, dart from here to there in your body, searching for the most delicate of organs to torture.

One hand tickling the back of your brain, another yanking on various sensitive parts, he lets out a high-pitched cackle that vibrates your entire frame.

The more you let him tug and yank, the bigger he grows.

Soon, his scrawny legs unleash a series of kicks upon your stomach and intestines, and his long finger makes its way into a tender piece of brain mass.

He pinches ever so slightly,

and your eyes begin to leak.

Slowly, he finds himself liquefying and sliding down your cheeks.

As drops of him hit the floor, his now wet eyes search around and -- aha.

Now he's found his victim.

The cycle begins again.