Charles, with furrowed brows, stared at the diary on the table before him; he had been sitting here for half an hour now.
"Coocoo~ Coocoo~ Coocoo~" A mechanical gear bird suddenly emerged from the grandfather clock, interrupting Charles's contemplation.
He gritted his teeth and quickly flipped open the diary to find the sparkling self-portrait that Anna had left behind.
"Shanshan, Shanshan?" His fingers gently tapped on the painting.
Writhing, deformed tentacles crawled out, followed by eyes of liquid green with distinct pupils. As these elements swiftly came together, a little girl about one meter tall stood in front of Charles.
"Shanshan, what is Mommy doing over there now?" Charles crouched down, touched her head gently, and whispered.
"She's eating, she looks very hungry, eating a lot and very eagerly," Shanshan replied truthfully.
"Oh…" Charles nodded in understanding.
