...I know what thoughts meander across your troubled brow.
As you rest your head, your heart, your very soul, upon thy down pillows, the horrors stake a claim on your life.
They tear down the walls of your conciousness, drag you kicking and screaming from your zone of comfort, and pleasure themselves as you writhe in agony.
With their gnarled hands, they scratch away your last shreds of dignity.
With their razor teeth, they strip the flesh from your last bastion of hope, leaving you an empty shell.
There is nothing left.
And I understand this.
Nothing, that is, unless you count the horrors themselves.
For, do we ever stop to consid