77 words: Demons

He lay in bed and listened to the precise sounds of the witching hour: a murder of crows squawked in the night, fingernails trailed across floorboards, the house let out a deep belly groan. A cold lick of shadows inched toward him and he let it crawl across his cold skin, consuming every light. He just smiled, whistling old folk tunes. He didn’t have anything to fear in the dark – the scariest demons were in his mind.


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