The Nightmare
A short story.
Or, perhaps, it's not a story at all ...
The Man With No Eyes is in front of my door. He is asking to come inside, politely. I have been told he is dangerous, yet he seems to be just a man. I know he is brutal and cold and dangerous, yet he just stands there.
The skin where his eyes should be is pinched closed. He does not look cold or brutal.
The man with him does. He is tall, wears a black trenchcoat, acts like a bodyguard or henchman.
Yet even though he looms and glares, he does not threaten.
The Man With No Eyes has a soft voice.
Against the shrieking inside telling me no ~ I open the door and ask them inside.
It is not polite to say no.
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