Fingers down my spine, whispers in the night. I hear footsteps, voices. I hear the dead speak. Raised hair, static electricity pops through the atmosphere. Thunder roars overhead, rolling across black, cloudless sky.

The chills start, small goosebumps race up my limbs and down my spine. I breathe out slow, closing my eyes against the whispers. He gets louder, his lips curled at my ear.

Through the open window, the wind picks up, carrying his voice. I shiver, shaking beneath layer after layer of clothing. I knew he would return once again tonight. The Invisible man and his wild chants.

He says my name, a faint mock amongst the moonlit night. Unintelligible whispers, I clutch my head as I start to decipher the long line of his sacred language. Symbols and sentences swirl in my head, flashing before my eyes as he feeds them to me like bitter fruit. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth together with a blossoming headache.

“Stop, please,” I whimper through chattering teeth. “Please!” I beg alongside his cackling vocals, I curl into a tight ball in my bed amongst the pillows and scream. A siren of helplessness cutting through his whispers like butter. Blood runs from my ears and eyes, pooling onto my pillow, the cloth absorbs the crimson hungrily.

Suddenly, the wind dies down outside my crystal clear window. My curtains stop thrashing in the wind, I struggle to catch my breath as his voice fades. Only a small, dark chuckle is left behind. I stay in a ball, my eyes clenched shut, teeth grit together harder than ever before.

I wait and wait.

Until finally, the chill stops.