Horror Nights
I have watched the light in you begin to flicker.
It started on your thirtieth birthday. You didn't run as hard. You stumbled on the third step, catching yourself with a hand that felt brittle. The light of the house seemed dimmer that night, or perhaps it was just your eyes, clouded by the whiskey and the crushing weight of everything you hadn't accomplished. I surged forward. My fingers—long, ink-black claws—grazed the back of your neck. You didn't turn, but you gasped, a sound of genuine, existential dread. You knew, didn't you? Somewhere deep in the lizard brain, you knew that the darkness wasn't chasing you anymore. It was catching up.
Hot Chapters