The night is quiet

No sounds can be heard

Not from insects, creatures or birds

A preternatural feeling is filling the air

Something evils coming and you best be aware

It’s hiding in the shadows

It’s creeping through the woods

You should run

If only you could

But it would be a futile effort

For there is nowhere to go

Can you feel the terror

As your skin goes cold

Scanning all around you

You cannot see a thing

Then suddenly you hit the floor

I feel yourself bleeding

And this thing that you were fearful of

Is feasting on your soul and being

It’s a craven harbinger a brute that needs to be eating

Spirits that are filled with fear

Self doubt and self loathing

Feasting on these souls is what keeps the monster going.

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