His real name was Sam, but He Was Simply Given That Title because, well, to put it simply, he Looked like an unfinished sculpture.

“Clay Child”

His Face looked Melted, Eyes nearly Out Of His Sockets, spoke like he was half drowning.

Everyone Was Disgusted By Sam, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit weirded out.

I got a little bit curious about what he was like at home, so I asked him if I could come over, and he looked spooked, almost worried, but he said yes.

A little Suspicious to ask, I Know, but back then, it was okay.

So I went over with him, and he sheepishly opened the door.

There were hundreds, upon Thousands of smashed, melted, and horrifying copies of Sam, scattered all around the Kitchen floor with his dad in the middle of another creation.

He then Turned Around, looking calm at the mess on the Floor, and said,

“Welcome Home son”

[-_-]