A low, dull moaning rattles you backwards. Seeming so small, your footsteps slide and stutter on the concrete. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, knowing from the past what is about to come.

He’s always been a sick one, the man who has never released his name from those lips, but you fear that that calm malicious exterior has a darker side. A side you’ve yet to provoke in him.

Your mind rebounds from the past, drawing back into the only comfort you have, that small place in your mind where even he has no power. Then, a touch of wind strikes your fingertips, sending a shiver through you.

You implore the darkness nearest you, “Puh-p-please! No-no more!” But there is no hope left, when the consuming darkness stays your secret from all ears.