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The Creeping Shadows. My room was dark, you could barely see the hands reaching out to grab you in your dreams, all you heard were the screams echoing down the hallway, the fury behind them, and the angered blood lust churning to be free from its mortal outer-shell. Then it all changed, he came for you after that, his sodden pitch black trench coat and his face so pale he looked as if he was a ghost; his eyes so red from all the built up torment. Then there were his teeth, he looked like a demon, yet his teeth were immaculate, a pristine definition of some good that was left in his heart, but from one's soul there is always something, lurking, slunk down in the hidden depths that is waiting there to turn evil. He seemed to enjoy his job, the chaotic screams of his victims bellowing, throughout, he endured...

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