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| - You sit at your computer. The constant barrage of terror pounds your mind into a mode of constant paranoia. Every noise brings you on edge, every shape in the darkness manifests as a demon or monster. You've been reading too many creepypastas. There is a constant feeling that someone or "something" is behind you. You begin to shrug off the feeling as nerves. A low growl booms around you. Your eyes dart in every direction that the noise could be coming from. Another growl. The possibilities race around in your mind, monster, demon, a serial killer waiting to slit your throat. You look down and discover that the noise is emanating from your empty stomach. You laugh and get up when a noise startles you. You hear something ruffling under your bedsheets. Sweat pours down your face as you look at your bedsheets. Moving. Your bedsheets are fucking moving. You stand there motionless; as the hidden strings of fear pull on your mind, opening up to the many horrors that could be the cause of this phenomenon. You move your hand to lift the covers when you hear a tiny meow coming from the bedsheets. You sigh in relief. It's just your cat. You continue to walk into the kitchen. The kitchen is overgrown with the dark, black abyss of night. Perfect for any menacing demons or monsters to grab you. You move your hand to the light switch and flick it on. Nothing happens. The power is out. You scream and curse. Out of all the times the power goes out, it decides to go out in the middle of your miniature “Horror Fest”. That's when you get the feeling again. The feeling that something is behind you. You turn your head viciously. Again, nothing. You start to wonder if you are just over reacting. “Your imagination is running wild,” you think to yourself. You open the refrigerator door, grab a sandwich, and close it quickly. As you walk down the hallway to your room, you begin to think of every thing you read of lurking in the shadows. You get to your room and sit down in front of your computer. Then the feeling intensifies. You can't move. The feeling of slow breathing chills your neck down to the spine. You hear a child-like whisper in your ear, “Don’t look behind you.” You turn your head slowly to the sound. You see nothing but darkness and the small glimmer of white eyes. You scream in terror as you realize that the eyes are looking not at you, but behind you. You grab your lamp switch and turn it on. You can clearly see what was shrouded by the sheet of darkness clouding your eyes. You’re looking at your little brother, who stands in terror of the black figure that looks just like you. Most people are afraid of the dark. But that's where you are the most safe. The darkness is not there to harm you but to protect you from your shadow. In the darkness you have no shadow. What no one told you was that you have no shadow. No one does. Your shadow mimics your every move, waiting to strike at that pristine moment when you are most terrified of the dark and turn the light on. Because when you do, your shadow will be behind you. It always is. Waiting, to hear your scream.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)