All that could be heard is the click-clack of my heeled knee-high leather boots hitting the pavement. The streets are always lonely this time of night, except for the occasional homeless person or late-night par-tiers. Everyone is in bed at this time of night, where they should be. At home, where it's safe, and cozy, and warm. Where monsters don't creep around the corner or dwell in the sewers. I remember what home once felt like. What it felt like to be safe and warm. Not anymore.
Don't think about that now.
There's a slight chill in the air tonight. Nipping at my nose and cheeks occasionally. No one would want to go out at night if they knew what's really out there.What's always been out there. Prowling. It's almost humorous what people don't know what lurks in their sleepy towns. What creeps in the bustling cities. What hunts in the alleyways and the dark holes in the walls.
So naive.
Those monsters that haunt your dreams, are real. The ones that hide under your bed, are real. The ones that go bump in the night, are real.
You should most definitely be, afraid.
YOU ARE READING
My Inferno
FantasyThose monsters that haunt your dreams, are real. The ones that hide under your bed, are real. The ones that go bump in the night, are real. You should most definitely be, afraid.
