I know not how to begin, but I must.

These visions — tortured fragments screamed in the night.

Silver.

A flash of teeth.

Yellow eyes, so bright.

No— I cannot. I cannot. My mind recoils from the thought. Shapeless now, what may I summon by committing dream to paper? What may manifest if given written form? It is too dangerous. And yet I must.

Too scared to mention lest I give it life. And yet I must.

It is closer now.

And still I must.

⸻

Here is a child. They are peace. The child sleeps. Sleeps. Safe. Safe from the dark, safe from the night. Wrapped in sheets and sleep. Bliss. The shadows move around them, but they know not of it.

A murmuring. What was the thought? Beamed at them, close-quarters. People around, laughing and cheering. But the thought was there, the words were there, and now they creep. Creep.

The stillness shattered. Serenity gone. Trust, innocence — vanished into vapour air. Midnight consumes.

The child sleeps.

The words — what effect they would have.

Unspeakable.

⸻

Closer now. Closer.

Creeps in shadows. There are no shadows — only darkened hall.

A flash in the mirror — is it there?

I do not look.

The hall is dark. The room is dark. The darkness enshrouds. Pale walls turned dark. Pale carpet turned dark. Pale life-light turned dark. The mind...

Run.

Quicken steps down the hall. Do not look. Do not see.

It is not there. I will not see.

Repeat the lie.

Open the door, through. Lights on. Close. Do not look and do not see. Duties. Wait. A relief, and out again. Silver splashes in the sink. It is only water. I hunch down. The dark is above. The mirror. The window.

If I look, what will I see?

I do not look.

⸻

Here is a mirror. Look. See yourself. You are there. Who else?

You are abandoned in dreams. Search, but you cannot find. They are gone from you. Vanished. Disappeared.

Taken.

The child is older. The child looks. The child searches. The child looks and searches and cannot find. It is missing. They are missing. You are missing.

The bathroom is bright in the morning glow, and the mirror is bright in the morning glow. Bright the light, bright and light. Bright and light and cannot find. Warming sun, infernal sun. Glorious, churning sun. Shadows clear. Shadows cold.

The child shakes their head. Leaves. Turns the corner.

Their trailing t-shirt is pinned against the wall.

Gasp.

They cannot move. They have turned the corner and they cannot move. Something is there. Something is there. Something is there and has pinned their t-shirt to the wall. They. It. The Taker. The Shadow. 

They cannot move. They cannot breathe. Their t-shirt is pinned to the wall by some unseen force you know what it is and they cannot move, cannot breathe, want to run, cannot run.

It is no use. The shadows pull. The child is hauled back. Stumbling into the bathroom, they cannot stop. Into the bathroom, and through, further. It is impossible how far. They see nothing, a glimpse of shadowed mass, and that is all. Through, through, through to who knows not where. They tumble and fall and tumble and slide. Down, down, the tumbling dark.

Until they wake.

⸻

What dreams! What fragments! What murmurings they foretold!

And now we are awake.

In the darkness, what might we see? A world consumed. A world swallowed. Reason consumed. Reason swallowed. Lamplight shatters murk, but not for long. See the mirror. In the glass. In the tap. In the door-handle. In the lamp.

Distorted forms cast back.

Stop! It is only me.

Do not look and do not see.

Walk, now. Walk. Fast. Faster. Do not let them see. Do not let them hear. Do not let them. Just walk. Just walk. Walk.

Shackled to the dark.

Closer now, closer. You are closer. Do not look. Closer. Do not see. Closer. Walk. Through the dark. Turn the light. Closer. Turn the light. Find the light. Closer. Closer.

Gone.

Do not look do not see. Do not see do not look.

They cannot see you if you walk.

They cannot catch you if you run.

⸻

It comes again. The mirror lurking.

Different this time, different. Two years, and here we are again.

The child sees. The adult is frozen. The child sees and they are frozen. The child goes to help. They must stop the force. They must escape. Pulling them back, but they cannot move. And now the child cannot move. Aching, desperate, cannot move.

What had been done. What had they become?

Hidden claws bring them forward. The bathroom, the mirror. Standing there, and there is it. Dark form.

It has emerged.

Back turned, it wears the child’s skin with grace and disgust. It is wrong. It is shapeless. Glimpsed only for a moment. It turns.

Pulled closer.

Oblivion.

⸻

It is here. It is here.

I glance up. I know what is there. Do not look do not see. I look and I see. Around the doorframe, and it comes. Pacing, slow. Step. Step. Step. It comes. Finger raised to fleshless lips. It watches. It grins.

Silent.

Silver claws and midnight robes. Shaken form, humanoid, pulled. Yellow eyes and gleaming jaws. Cat pupils, so large, so wide. What they must see. Talons rending flesh and skin, what they must see. It delights.

Teeth, too. Crooked sharp, so neat, so slender in a voracious maw. Teeth of a cat. And moon-spun garment, and coils of iron-wrought hair tumbling and falling. It creeps now. Closer. Closer.

It sees now. Closer. Closer.

Needle fingers reaching for my face.

Pray for me.

Prey for it.

It is here now, and I know not how to begin.