Goosebumps on my skin. Dread in my soul.

It's here.

The foul breath of rot and blood permeates the air around it, the stench is unbearable.

I feel like gagging, but manage to control myself. I refuse to show weakness.

The dreadful screeching to which nails on the chalkboard are a wonderful melody pierces my ears.

Although I can't see it, I can FEEL its presence, floating next to me.

The air around it is different.

Heavier. Suffocating. Contaminated.

I want to dig my nails deep into my ears to stop the sound, but it won't help.

Nothing ever does.