I woke up at 3am and found my brother staring at me while sitting on the edge of his bed. The blanket behind him moved and I saw that underneath those sheets was my real brother.
I walked past gibbering madness, blank stares, hollow shells of men, and found the girl huddled in the corner. My diplomatic offer of flowers was met with a scream, a recoil, and a whisper: “They’re still alive, and I can hear their dying screams…”
Don’t be afraid of the shadows that move across the walls at night. Just don’t stare: they might stare back.