Their howl that penetrated the depths of the mind was the first sign of their possession.

Their lack of corporeal form made them seem more as a disease of madness than a species.

Cataplectis.

Anxiety wracked Tenson's body, shaking, heart pounding as a stampeding stallion.

His breath caught violently jarring his body with fright.

The severe blade-like essence of the pen he was using to grade papers was suddenly alluring.

He pressed it to his palm dragging it across threatening to draw vermillion blood.

The howl intensified, sharp as shattered glass tumbling through his mind.

This is the end.