Chapter 1

The sun beat down on the asphalt, turning the air into a shimmering mirage. Ten-year-old Lily, her face sticky with sweat, watched the ice cream truck pull up to the curb. A cheerful jingle, a familiar melody, filled the air, and Lily's heart leaped with anticipation. The truck was a faded, candy-colored relic, its paint peeling like sunburnt skin. The driver, a man with a face as pale as the moon and eyes that glinted like shards of ice, smiled at her, his teeth unnaturally long and sharp. "What'll it be, little one?" he asked, his voice a raspy whisper. Lily hesitated, her gaze drawn to the strange, colorful treats displayed in the truck's window. There were ice cream cones with swirls of black and purple, popsicles with eyes that seemed to follow her, and a giant, grinning sundae that looked almost… alive. "I'll take a… a chocolate chip cookie dough cone," Lily finally said, her voice trembling slightly. The ice cream man nodded, his smile widening. He reached into the truck, his hand disappearing into the darkness, and emerged a moment later with a cone that seemed to shimmer with an unnatural light. "Here you go," he said, his voice a chilling rasp. Lily took the cone, her fingers tingling with a strange sensation. The ice cream was cold, colder than she had ever felt, and it tasted metallic, like blood. As she licked the cone, she felt a strange chill creep up her spine, a feeling of dread that she couldn't shake. She looked up at the ice cream man, but he was gone. The truck was empty, the jingle silent. The only sound was the wind, whispering through the trees, carrying with it a scent of decay and something else, something dark and ancient. Lily tried to swallow, but the ice cream felt like lead in her mouth. She looked at the cone again, and her blood ran cold. The chocolate chips were no longer chocolate. They were tiny, black eyes, staring at her with a malevolent gleam. A scream caught in her throat. She dropped the cone, the ice cream melting into a puddle of black goo that seemed to writhe and pulsate. As she ran, she could hear the ice cream man's laughter echoing in the wind, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. Lily never saw the ice cream man again, but she never forgot the taste of that ice cream, the cold, metallic taste of fear and despair. And she never forgot the eyes, the eyes that watched her from the shadows, waiting for her to return. The ice cream man was a legend in her town, a story whispered in hushed tones, a warning to children who dared to venture out on hot summer days. They were told to stay away from the truck, to avoid the ice cream man, to never, ever take a bite of his strange, unnatural treats. For the ice cream man was not just a man. He was something else, something ancient and evil, a creature of darkness that fed on the fear of children. And he was always watching, waiting for his next victim.