In the dark there stands a figure. Its thick talons extended, curved so gruesomely. A long silhouette it is, with limbs twice the length of people's, with a head thrice the size of my own.
My chest constricts painfully, only letting me cough up retches as I dry heave. With eyes blurred by stinging tears, I squint at the figure that stands so mockingly still.
And when my brother's thundering footsteps reach me, I lift a shaking hand, one finger pointing at the silhouette.
But when the beam of his flashlight reaches it, my stomach drops.
"There is nothing there."
