The creature that lurks beneath. It has no soul. The black, heinous and bloodcurdling mist dwells in its bowls. It shrieks in the night, for it is thirsting for a new super. It reduces a garnish persona to nothing but a pile of shallow and pessimistic ash. Beware of this creature. For it is not tangible. It is not palpable. It is not corporeal. This beastly, callous phantom is only the deepest part of our conscious. Where all the treacherous things go to stay. Building up, they flourish into what is lurking beneath.