Did you ever get the feeling that you're being watched?
Sounds cliche, I know, but think for a minute. When you were walking through the woods, lost during the emptiness of the new moon, tell me you didn't sense that paranoid, psychopathic pit of dread in your stomach. You knew; you knew that when that dim, flickering flashlight in your hands went out, there was no force preventing your death any longer. As you crept through the dirt and pine needles that felt like thorns on your barefoot skin, the beam of the light from your manmade torch flicked from place to place; you thought you saw blood on the rocks beneath your toes and your heart leapt into your stomach when you saw that thick, man-shaped loose tree branch that at first glance looked like a dead body.
But you didn't run.
You knew that whatever was peering at you from the midnight shadows, just beyond your peripheral vision, was going to get you.
So instead, you searched.
You looked around the woods for any means of delaying your impending doom. You explored the abandoned cabins with ghastly cobwebs that watched you like spirits in the night. Your bare feet slapped along the cold tiles of the spider-infested bathhouse, as the pallid fluorescent lights still flickered above your head.
And you found nothing.
But it let you go. It allowed you to escape its forest and live to die another day. You thought that you had defeated or outsmarted it. But down in the depths of your heart, you know...and I know...that it is only biding its time.
That it is still watching.
c. Taylor Ward 2012. All rights reserved.
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