"Not Him!"

It was dark when a small eight-year-old boy reaches home from school. Checking a small watch on his wrist, he knew it was time for his mother to come home. He knew that she would be the first to reach home today. He had to hurry.

He was late because there was a child missing from his school. The child had apparently left school early for some unknown reason and had not reached home since then. "He was a good friend of mine" the boy had said earlier when they all went out to search for him.

Upon seeing his house open and yet unlit, he hurried his steps. Naturally, he removed his shoes and carefully laid them on his porch before entering his poorly built shack of a home. Hoping to see his beloved's mother's face, he hurriedly threw the bag of books inside the house and rushed out to see her in the garden.

When he saw no one there he was sad. He looks around the place and still sees no one. The light is getting dimmer. After a while, his eyes came to rest upon a trail of black slimy liquid leading to his house...

He frowned. With a huge sigh, he follows the trail from his garden. He then entered his house and carefully opened the door to avoid scaring what could be inside. He then unhooked a strangely designed flute with terrible markings hanging on the ceiling of the kitchen area and proceeded towards the small bedroom where his mother sleeps.

"Kookooo, Koo Koo," said the boy with a strange unknown accent.

There was a terrible hissing sound coming from the bedroom.

However, the boy seems to know what he doing. Determined and calculating, he proceeded towards the bedroom. He opened the door, hissing awkwardly as he did it. He seemed to have done this many times.

"Kookoo, Koo Koo!"

The door opened and whatever that was hissing at him was formless. With only a twirling mass of unknown blackness as its appearance, the thing shrieked and hissed vehemently at the boy. The sound is most unpleasant indeed as it was coupled with a slurping sound coming from the ever-twirling masses of shapeshifting slime.

Unfazed by what he saw, the boy simply opened the door wider for himself to enter.

Doing so, he placed the strange ominous flute to his lips and played a haunting tune that has never ever touched a human ear.

The black formless hissing thing seemed to have been severely affected by the odd time signatures in the music. With every note, the twirling masses of wet slimy tendrils found themselves forcefully limited to a certain form in the corner of the bedroom, slowly manifesting themselves into a body of a woman clutching at something. The shrieking and hissing were unbearable but the child played on. Several animals in the area can be heard howling in mortal fear as the devilish harmony rages on.

By the time the crescendoing music had hit the highest octave on the third minute, the ever-twirling mass had almost completely stopped. In the corner of the bedroom, a womanly form woke up and found herself covered in black slime and holding something in her lap. 

With every effort she can muster, she screamed at the boy not to come any nearer. But the boy who had finished playing the otherworldly flute by then insisted. 

As he drew nearer, he saw that the thing in her lap is a mass of heavily mutilated flesh. A half-eaten body of a child, dressed in a familiar school uniform, equally torn and covered in blood and slime.

This time the boy stiffened a while before quietly screaming in a frightened whisper, 

"What have you done?"

"I told you Not Him, Mother!"

He looked at the messy heap in front of him, shaking his head, disappointed.

"Not Him"