photo story

   

     I skulk through this building. Passing sights that once brought chills rushing down to my very soul. Memories crawl up my back, yet I don’t stop once to reminisce. I’m on a mission, and nothing except success will cause me to stop.

     I can hear the bated breath, can smell the rotting tinge of fear. I feel myself start to quiver. Not sure if it’s with excitement, or if I’m still affected by the pheromones. I stop moving, sensing the source has slowed down. I know the source will come to my room soon. How fun it is to finally have visitors again! I sit in my chair, turning my head expectantly towards the door.

     I can hear the source’s footsteps speeding up. I can hear the heartbeat speeding up, the source approaching my door. How curious. It seems this one isn’t put off but the smell of blood. This one isn’t affected by the handprints, the lingering feeling of dread that hangs around me. I sit, watching as the source collapses into the room, shutting the door tight behind them. I don’t move, don’t make a sound. I know that if I do, the loneliness will settle in once again.

     The source turns around, thinking they’re safe. They did just outrun my guardian, afterall. They peak around, not noticing me until I grin. We stare at each other. One human, one shadowy figure. They watch as I approach, not realizing before it’s too late.

My guardian is the friendly one here.

 

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