A child with a temporary tall, formally dressed, spooky friend. He has massive hands, a bone white head and....
- No face
- Flaming Purple hair -- Gallifreya
When the police finally found Velour, they didn't ask why she held one hand in the air, fingers curled as if they were gently grasping something. They did not question how a small child of four could have found her way out of the woods from the remote cabin where that sicko had her.
They just scooped her up in a big hug and wrapped her in blankets and rushed her to the road with great shouting and jubilation.
It wasn't until they found the cabin that they asked things.
Like: what did Melvin Purrile die of? Or: this place is miles from anywhere, how did she walk straight towards the nearest road?
Little Velour Jones had not spent much time in hospital. She had escaped with barely any harm to her. Her mother said an Angel had watched over her.
Velour sat in her living room with her crayons and drew pictures. The bad man and his bad van. The friendly ghost who helped her. His name was Lewis. Velour always drew him in a black suit with a pink tie and pink hair.
Lewis' head was a skull. Beyond that, he seemed like any other imaginary friend. If one ignored Velour's insistence that Lewis scared the bad man to death. According to Velour, Lewis and his 'pinky friends' played a lot of tricks on the bad man. And they "ated up all of his bad until there wasn't anything left for being alive."
There was no forensic evidence. Even the film that Melvin took didn't show anything definitive. Just a lot of static and the sounds of his own screams. And before that... Velour tied to a chair.
They never found out how she got loose. She insisted that Lewis set her free. And held her hand until they found the search party. And when they asked where Lewis was, now, she simply said, "He went home again. I don't need him any more."
(Muse food remaining: 45. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)