The fressidrene (/ˈfrɛzɪdriːn/) is an immense and immobile cement stranger which appears partially embedded in the earth, woven in-and-out in a twisting formation. Its head is always above ground, and reaches vertically, while the tip of its tail is never exposed. Its outer surface is a dull, greenish teal, with singular eye markings on both the top and bottom jaw, while its inner surface is pinkish in hue. It long and rust-colored teeth twist and curl independently of one another, although this movement is nearly imperceptible most of the time. The fressidrene is cold and hard to the touch, and its flesh is roughly 1'-1'11" in thickness. Its body is completely hollow, and retains an internal temperature of 63.5°F.
While its body can be broken apart by any tool used to break apart concrete (such as a jackhammer or sledgehammer), the fressidrene possesses incredible regenerative ability, and cracks in its surface fill in within seconds of injury. As such, it is fundamentally impossible to destroy via physical means.
The fressidrene appears in open, undeveloped areas, with no preference for indoor versus outdoor locations. It generates more frequently around echoes and dull, low shudders, and it prefers shades of grey to color and warmth. Its specific generation and growth are not observed, however.
In 1.9% of instances, two fressidrene appear, curled in frozen, fight-like formations, each one's teeth embedded in the other's neck, their bodies wrapped firm, as though hoping to strangle their companions. Aside from the slight curls of their teeth, however, they do not move, the victor forever unclaimed1.
Most rarely, 0.6% of fressidrene appear inside houses, and, in these constricted spaces, weave in and out of the walls, floor, and the ceiling. These fressidrene have severely truncated lifespans, and may only be seen once, in a single encounter.
The fressidrene's acrimonious demeanor is tempered only by its suspended form. The fressidrene does appear able to open and close its mouth, which is found open 87% of the time, and closed 13% of the time. This movement, however, much like their generation, remains unobserved. Otherwise, the fressidrene does not move, nor does it interact with the world around it in any way.
When certain sensitives approach the fressidrene, the stranger speaks in a voice that sounds like a person crying for help. These cries emanate from deep within its hollow body, and persist as long as the sensitive is nearby, growing more and more desperate the closer the sensitive stands. This voice is not a perfect mimicry of human speech, however, and instead, the fressidrene vocalizes with what resembles a speech impediment or heavy accent, although no other clipping or distortion occurs. It speaks in a language common to the region in which it occurs, but only rarely (5% of the time) speaks in the most widely-spoken language.
More heroic sensitives may find themselves compelled to crawl into the fressidrene to search for someone trapped inside. Once they do, however, the fressidrene's voice turns into a bellowing, jeering laugh, as though mocking the sensitive's altruism. This laughter continues until the sensitive leaves the fressidrene alone once more.
Although the fressidrene is not directly predatory, it can prove fatal to any sensitive that becomes trapped inside its body. Corpses do not disappear inside the fressidrene, and thus, more dangerous fressidrene can be identified by the sickly-sour smell of rot that emanates upward from their mouths.
The fressidrene does display some slight loss of stability when around sensitives, and touching the fressidrene for a prolonged period of time causes the fressidrene to develop a harmless, soft, rust-like affliction, which fades away over time and can be scraped off with a fingernail.
The moment of the fressidrene's death is unseen. One day, it is simply absent, and its disappearance leaves no indentations on the earth, no shrines left by companions, or any evidence that they were even there at all.