Have you heard of the Strangled? If not, you're quite lucky to have not encountered them. They lurk in those far reaches of the schoolyard, those spaces the children avoid like the plague until one is dared to wander into their territory. You might not see them, but the kids know they're there. It's the noises you need to watch out for. When they're not out for prey, it's harder to notice - the faint, muffled sounds of dirt and stone rustling, tossing and turning deep under the grass. What is it they do down there? I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you is that you'd best be aware of the lure. You know the sounds. Cries, screams, whoops, shouting of all kinds in the distance - the sound of a busy playground, the sound of kids perhaps making lifelong memories. Have you ever heard it coming from beneath the ground you stand on? If you have, it's a miracle you're even still here to read this warning. Hearing even the faintest hint of its call is a warning - you'd best not lay even a toe on that grass, and you'd best hope no kids in the neighborhood are curious enough to try it either.
The Strangled have never been seen in broad daylight - they're only known to be entirely nocturnal, lurking in the darkness of schoolyards and local parks after hours. Another thing: they seek out lone prey. A single victim with no witnesses is ideal. Sometimes they'll make exceptions if it's only another child there to watch it happen. But never an adult. If you knew about the Strangled as a kid, I'm certain your parents never believed it. There was simply no evidence, no firsthand accounts, nothing but rumors and the senseless babbling of horrified youth. Except for one incident.
One night, a father awoke in an instant to the sound of his son deliriously shrieking and crying for help.