The sheets of wind gasp through the crack in the door slithering over the floor like the pitter patter of the wendigo whispering cause of chagrin.
A gape a gasp of breath bobbing like a hobgoblin on the breast of your chest the batibat stealing the gait of your breath seeping you life in to the nape of death.
Sifting through the dream weaver like a wheals pillaging a egg beneth a hen rear end, baku stealthy and lethal stuffs you soul in the hole in the nowhere to go whole.
Akin to a proboscis of a kissing beetle laced anesthetic like the doctor syringe stings the flesh nerved no more, the alp forces his straw in the tender flesh on on her neck and consumes every ounce of goo that gave her that hue.
Still as a spider stalking a victim caressing an urn the jinn will trap you with his grin hold you still and stabs you with a blade made out of thunder ice when the sacrifice settles the score the jinn and blade is no more turned to vapor and the caper wisp away in the unseen air.