CREATURES OF THE DARK
They waited all her life to tell the truth. But she kept waking up.
The creatures waited until slumber settled over her eyelids.
They had been waiting patiently, longer than they would ever admit.
Finally, the time had come for her to listen.
They lined up in the order they had arrived. One by one, they leaned in, whispering into her ear at a pitch only she could hear. Quiet. Almost silent.
When each had finished, they stepped aside to let the next one speak.
As she began to stir, they grew anxious.
They had waited so long to tell their stories—
surely she would hear them this time,
the girl untouched by remembering,
still dreaming in innocence.
The world was already tilting toward morning.
The sun crept over the horizon.
The creatures grew restless.
When the first light touched her cheek, they slipped back into shadow—
not gone, only waiting for the dark to remember them again.
Morning scattered their voices, but not their hope.
Tonight, they would try again.
