It isn’t safe to sit in the dark. Let the light in, slowly so as not to disturb anyone––or anything. Then again, maybe it’s better not knowing. Your brain may wander, but at least you don’t have to face it.
Can you hear it, that ghost of an old song drifting through faraway speakers? Walk towards the sound. It was someone’s favorite tune once. Now they are long gone. But maybe they still want someone to dance with.
The view from your window may seem…different. The once-familiar silhouettes of trees and buildings now undulate and shiver with the fall of night. Can you really trust what you see? Is that a face, peering in?
Listen to the walls. Can you hear a presence inside, ready to make itself known? Does it laugh, softly, when you turn out the light? How long before you can admit to yourself that maybe it’s hungry?
Run. The woods teem with creatures who shouldn’t be disturbed. Run until you think your legs will give out, until you know nothing but running. Run until you stop feeling their hot breath on the back of your neck.
Pay close attention to the creaking of the floorboards. Of course, there’s nothing that can harm you, not just yet anyway. Lock your doors just in case, though. Is there a place you can hide, far from the light?
You can never really tell who’s changed until they reveal themselves to you. Watch out for odd behavior from those closest to you this week. They might be your friends, but the beast inside may not agree.
The road stretches endless in front of you. Sometimes it feels you ended up exactly where you were. The stones shift under your uneasy steps. Keep going, no matter where you end up––or how long you have to walk.
No one will find you in here, safe from the terrors of the outside world. But why, then, does it feel like the walls are closing in? And what’s that clawing, that hacking at the locked door? What could come of this?
You’re the only one special enough to hear their cries––the spirits trust you. Listen to what they say, what they tell you to do. You just want what’s best for them. You only want what’s best. And they’ll do anything to get it.
Open your door to a mysterious stranger who stands soaking from the rain. Let them into your home, tell them how to get from one place to another. Turn around to see them gone. Or did they never exist in the first place?
It grips at you in the dead of night, this relentless dread. You can’t explain why it makes the back of your neck tingle. Too frightened to move, you lie stock-still. Who is with you? Or is it fear itself and nothing more?