There was something calling me when I left that night.

Something about the wind's call.

I wandered below the orange glow of the street lamps.

I wandered into the countryside.

I wandered to the cruelest mountain peaks.

The bitter cold bit my pink cheeks. A place of death had never made me feel more alive.

Something crept from the shadows. It was a horrifying, dangerous thing I could never look at head- on, for fear of turning stone. It was something no human need see. It was indefinable, indescribable, and utterly terrifying. And yet I moved towards it.

Suddenly, I was not afraid of myself.