They wait. Between the worlds, in the space of silently slithering thoughts and ancient memories they bide their time. Their time never runs out, nor their patience.
The realms shift, aeons pass, shadows slide in like the tide. They embrace the oldest of mysteries, the best-kept secrets: embrace and absorb before they retreat.
The shadows breathe the secrets into the night air, into flickers at the corner of your eye, into the certainty of someone watching. They dance with every dark story you’ve ever heard, whisper so low that your ears cannot hear, so low that you feel it at … Read more at the source.