Part I

I didn’t want to find this place. Their awful yowling caused me great distress, I became lost and surrounded. They didn’t come in, they wouldn’t cross the threshold of this old house. They claw and scratch at the windows, even as I write this. They won’t even break the leaden glass whose warped nature distorts their features as they leer hungrily. Somehow, this place keeps me, or whoever’s in it, safe.

Next morning. I know why I am safe. I will write more later.