“Ma, listen! I know what I saw!”
“Hush Piotr, you’re playing your games again.”
Piotr shakes off his mother’s hand and bursts through the door into the frozen air. Despite the heavy snow, it doesn’t take him long to reach his uncle Fyodor’s house. He doesn’t knock, he just walks right in.
A bearded man stooped over a pot doesn’t even turn, but instead starts speaking.
“Another fight with dear сестра, hmm? What was it this time?” He lifts a ladel and takes a sip.
Piotr throws himself into a chair. “No one believes me. I saw the frogs, I saw them. I saw them land their sky-boat.”
The man stops, ladle midway to the pot. He turns and whispers.
“человек лягушка? They’ve returned..?”
“What is it, дядя?”
“They’ve returned! Run, Piotr, run!”
“They’ll tear your skin right off! They’ll wear it like a mask! They’ll take your name! Quickly boy, get out of here! Don’t-”
A tremendous crash and a scream fill the air. The front door is flung off its hinges by a mighty kick.
In the doorway stands a silhouette. Bulging eyes, twisted features, long, webbed fingers. Green.
The creature opens a wide, toothless maw and emits an unearthly sound.
(Editors Note: This story was written by and published on behalf of Twelfman)