The first thing that Francis would be able to see was not Dietre, but a tall, pale and misshapen creature. It's form was humanoid, but horribly distorted, the proportions all wrong. It's skin was fish belly white and mottled, the bones of it's spine protruded to the point where the thin skin looked ready to split. It's arms were drawn up against it's body, the pose giving the impression of a praying mantis. The shoulders were hunched and the neck seemed too long as it strained downward. Towards Dietre. The boy sat pressed into the corner of the room, his knees drawn up and his hands over his head, fingers buried in his hair.
How could have Dietre mistaken such a creature for his mother? It was the face. It had his mother's face, her lips pulled back, jaw stretched open in a silent scream. Surely, that was how she looked when she died. Save for the eyes, they were open wide, impossibly wide, with pupils so large there was no room for an iris. They were trained unblinkingly on Dietre, and somehow you just knew, that if the boy lifted his head and looked back into that mindless, fish eyed gaze for just a second, the creature would attack.
Dietre had heard Francis' voice but was unable to answer, frozen in terror until he heard his bedroom door swing open. A moment later he was tearing himself away from the wall, scrambling to his feet to throw himself blindly in help's direction. As soon as he was moving, the monster dematerialized, melting out of reality like wisps of smoke, then it was gone.
D ran right into Francis, gasping, choking as he spoke in a mad rush, "She wouldn't go away! I said I was sorry, but she wouldn't listen. She just kept staring. Staring at me. I told her I was sorry but she wouldn't go away...!"