The sun goes down and the world is engulfed in darkness. We, the predators and prowlers, who have been lying in wait for the most opportune moment, wake up from our sleepless slumber. You won't see us for we are just like ghosts from the tombs, movements noticed out of the corner of your eyes, shadows in the night.
If we've marked you, we will come after you. To hunt you, prey on you, fuel the fire in you that you call fear. We won't use claws or teeth, daggers or knives, stakes or bullets. But we will scare you. We will invade your minds and project your worst fears and nightmares on the silver screen of your subconsciousness.
And this fear will get you. You'll feel us everywhere. Touching you, toying with you, playing with you in the most obnoxious and depraved of ways. So scared you'll be that you will find solace only in the cold steel of the dagger that you yourself will drive through your hearts to end your already-miserable-turned-hopeless and scared to death lives.
