I want you to be afraid. I want to taste your fear and smell it in the air from miles away. I want to be that voice in your head that scares you. I want you to quiver when you think of me. And even when you don’t see me, I want you to be afraid of that fact that I could be around. I could be that rustle of leaves or that shadow in the dark. I could be that echo, I could be that unfamiliar sound. I could be that strange bright light, I could be that whisper in the dark.
I want you to be afraid of me. I want to lurk in corners and dark alleys. I want you to fear me because this is what it has come to now. And when the time is right, I will silently pull you out of the light and into the darkness where no one can hear your muffled screams. I want you to make a mistake. I want you to do it in front of me. I will take my time with my selection of torture. It will be pure and you won’t feel a thing. And then you will. Oh, how you will scream and shout in bewilderment.
I want you to fear me. I want you to know I exist and I am coming for you.