“Can you hear them, prowling just beyond the threshold?” whispered the last librarian of Dunwick, his tremulous voice laden with visions of those endless nights, shadows daring to crawl beneath the stacks of ancient tomes. The aphids, once benign denizens of leafy green gardens, transformed grotesquely into creatures with flesh-eating hunger, feasting unseen upon unsuspecting souls drawn to the library’s forsaken instants frozen in time. As their insatiable desire gnawed at the fabric of existence, a dread carved deep within me, for I realized these crawlers could never be quelled, promising the silent obliteration of everything sacred I once knew.
Saved at 2025-08-10 17:52 UTC
