I sit by the bed supperless, the room consumed by candle light shadow. No rest for the weary, no sleep for the troubled. I won’t see the light of day tomorrow, the dusk will swallow me in her bitter maw. Grounded by terror, I fear I’ll be churned out at dawn, torn and frail. Tormented by the lack of sleep, I am driven woeful by an entity hidden in the smothering shadows. Darkness closes in as I hold my breath and wait. I sense something growing faintly against the blackness.
It must be the Night Mother. Slumber’s bane. The Lucid Haunt. She gnaws at the minds of men, mauling and maiming, til dawn breaks her hold. There she is shunned into the cracks and hidden corners of the world, biding again.
The form fades. My eyes dart frantically over the room, and sweat begins to make its way down my brow. Goosebumps. I feel her presence again and around me, it grows infinitely darker. I begin to tremble. A cold miasma envelops me. I sweat. I hear the floorboards creak. I yelp. A festering odour emanates from the dark. I gag from the nausea, and try to remain as silent as possible.
A portion of shadow begins to form, perfectly silhouetted against the void.
I open my mouth to scream but my nothing escapes, my voice stolen. I see her clearly. She is here. I shut my eyes, helpless. The Nightmare Hag. She cackles.
No comments:
Post a Comment