Stories that are collected from the depths of the unknown or spawned from the deep recesses of my mind...
Friday, October 10, 2008
Them
Is it silence where you are now, except for the whirring of your computer, or whatever your reading this on?
Good enough.
Tune out that noise.
Listen. Very carefully. To the noise within your ears.
Before you may have dismissed it as hissing static in your head, or a barely discernable noise of something else. But I’m telling you now it’s not.
It’s your body warning you that they’re here.
Them.
With their empty, black, over-sized sockets- pale skin stretched tight over them.
Fleshy talons, elongated bones, to scrabble at the flesh they seldom taste. They have no origin.
Very old, very slow
And very, very hungry.
Cursed to skulk with withered mouths the size of pin pricks and an appetite as collosal as mountains.
And you can sense them, because they’re always there- they long to taste life they’ve never had- whether souls or flesh. They’re not picky.
But all they exist of are energy, and they barely exist in this realm, which is why most of the time we can’t see them.
But your body knows they’re there. You can hear their energy. In your ears now, in the silence.
Silence is good, because it means no disturbance to the energies.
When there’s no disturbance, that’s when they get through.
Silence is good.
For them.
Don’t
Turn
Around
—
Credits to: photofreecreepypasta
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