#buzzingswarm

"So cry out so you can see, five times, to hail a legacy." he hums. "He's the Candyman." But was it real? Most of what he could find was a racially motivated crime in the 1800s of a man who was attacked, and died as a result. Daniel Robitaille. But there wasn't much else. So he turned to the locals, to ask about him.

Supposedly, after he died, right where Cabrini-green stands now, he came back a vengeful spirit and kills anyone who looks in a mirror and says 'candyman' five times. Falcor was hesitant to try this, as after he tried the Bloody Mary one, nothing happened. But he was nothing if not persistent.

He gathers his items, placing them in his bag before heading out to his apartment. He sets his stuff down and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and turned the light off. Finally, he looks into his dimly lit reflection. "Alright, let's see if you're real." He says, and takes a deep breath.

"Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Candyman. Candyman." It was quiet as he finished. Way too quiet. He couldn't even hear the electrical humming from the outlet anymore. He examines his reflection. Something was definitely different. But after a few minutes of silence, and seeing nothing, he turns, to turn the light back on and leave the bathroom. As he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of curved metal in the mirror. His gaze snapped back to look at the mirror. Gone.. maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. He clicks the light back on, and exits the bathroom, to go unpack his bag.

It's death pressing every desire against his mouth and for once,

Red doesn't know what to do.

Young Jonathon Pollard was sucked into the dare and said that dangerous name five fateful times. Bathroom lights off and a stupidly brave boy who wanted to impress his friends. He thought that he heard buzzing as the fan kicked on ( almost sounding like bees ). And nothing happened.

What a buzz kill.

It became strange sightings after then. A quick slip of something out of the corner of his good eye ( thanks to that track accident when he was sixteen ). Shadows passing too suddenly in the mirror. Splashing water on his face and a seeing another soul in the liquid pooling in his hands. Even today, standing short at twenty-two, in the shiny reflection of the weight scale, when Red was making sure he was under a hundred and fifteen.

So his limited sight sweeps up, staring at the strange figure, suffocating in the dim light of the stable's locker room - - -

               THE INFAMOUS APIS MELLIFERA DID NOT FUNCTION DISSIMILARLY TO THEIR OWN CONGREGATION. in lieu of honey, they produced a steady flow of fresh blood — one thousand, thousand dedicated and dutiful servants, skittering and toiling away, all for the sake of their beloved queen and lord. both the hive and their order functioned in perfect, rigid fashion, a living machine with no room for error - thusly, the other, though strange, is nevertheless charmingly familiar. the priest allows the gesture, and is content to simply enjoy a lingering moment of warmth upon their brumal skin. something within them churns, and swiftly, they are hungry once more. allow me the luxury of suffering through a swarm, they wish to say, but keep their lips impassively sealed. curious, amused, and expectant, they speak. “    honeyed and harrowing marvel, what of your sting?    ”