You don’t look at the sky anymore. You can hear him even underground. That damned voice. Hehehehe! Elmo loves you! Elmo loves you! It echoes through the sewers, bouncing off walls slick with mold and yarn bits. Everybody calls them Laugh Rains—those bursts of heat and static when Elmo laughs hard enough to boil water in the pipes. You lost Mateo during one. His face melted into something… cheerful. His last words were: “Heehee…ha…heh…it’s so warm!” before his skin bubbled.
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