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“Strangeee, she wasn't even your own but you mourn her as if she was.”
The homeowner felt his teeth grit because fuck, his head hurt.
“I can still taste the tiny thing in the air there, little human fear, little human tears, she used to cry alot but now I can't hear her cries anymore, sooo she must be gone, they took her, hm?”
Then the Visitor took a deep, filthy inhale like he was dragging the scent straight through the door and into whatever counted as lungs.
“I can smell your fear through the door, it's eating you alive, its delicious."
Or where
Drunk, guilty, and utterly alone after FEMA rips the little girl from his arms, the homeowner was halfway away from drinking himself to death with a loaded shotgun by his side,
But then came along a certain Visitor who confused his guilt for fucking baby fever.