((Open RP)) Strange. I wonder where these came from. I pick up one marble, it said "Peter Johnson" on it. I hear something scuffle behind me, and I jump. The marble drops onto the floor, shattering. "Fuck" I say quietly. I bend down to clean it up, but stop short. An erie mist escapes the glass shards, and it rises up. I back away, watching in fascination and horror as a boy steps from the fog.