A Ghost Cooked For Me
A cold dread, sharper than the chill in the air, shot up from the soles of my feet.
The patch of shadow in the corner began to writhe unnaturally, coalescing into a denser form.
A human silhouette, darker than the darkness around it, slowly detached itself from the wall.
It was tall and gaunt, its entire form wreathed in an impenetrable, smoky blackness.
The air grew still and heavy, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
Then, a voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, sounded not in my ears, but directly in my mind.
Bab Populer