MicroHorror

They’re terribly afraid of me. They flood my face with constant light, hoping I’ll go blind. But I see them through the observation glass.

Their scientists have emergency generators hooked up to this room. They’re wasting what little time they have left.

All week I’ve heard them panic in their conference rooms, discussing the encroaching darkness. Last month, a space rift opened over the east coast, spilling a midnight sky full of things that slither and crawl. Anyone swallowed in that shadow dies screaming.

They’re worried my people have finally come for me.

They have.

Now all I must do is wait for the dark to reach me, and I’m free.