You swallow and look over your shoulder. You can't see anything, but you can sense it, close. Hungry. It's an ancient force, newly awakened. It carries old souls within it, souls devoured and twisted by this one.

Your mother used to say that you could bite your thumb to ward off the dark things. That always used to work when you were young and had nightmares. But when you try it now -- biting so hard you break your skin -- you can almost hear it laugh at you. Your mouth is as dry as crumbled wax.


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