The Dead Zone (Open)

[Nighthunter [0]]

NightHunter

He could feel the souls screaming.

They could feel what this place was, somehow. And they were afraid. The echoes of lost emotion in the air were almost palpable; the hate, the fear, the insane laughter. Here there had been a man afraid of his own shadow, afraid of everything. There had been a man who'd killed dozens only because he'd liked the color red. There was a child who never entered the waking world, not really. Dead, gone, but not fully erased. They could feel it when he looked at the blood letters on the wall, when he crawled gecko-like onto the chair where the child's corpse still sat, when he walked in the long striped shadows falling on the floor, and they were afraid. He felt their fear, and it made him strong.

They stained his skin, their faces beneath the translucent fabric pressing against its edges. Only when they were terrified could they be seen as anything more then an eerie green glow, and yet now they created half-made forms, and fought to push through the thin layer of fabric which held them in so that they could be anywhere but here. Their fear and their hate kept him alive. Alive and searching for more.