I walked into my sick mother's room just to find her levitating about two feet off the ground. There was a tall blackened figure in front of her holding out his skeleton-like hand to her. His dark robes seem to wave in the breeze through there was none.
I saw my mother gasp for breath as if she was being choked. Her skin went pale. I knew she was dead but the figure didn't let go. Her skin began to dry out and crack. Her face became gaunt. I watched, petrified, as she withered away in front of my eyes. The black figure dropped his hand and with it my mother's mangled remains.
Fear rooted me to my spot as he turned toward me. He glided to me with unnatural grace. The air froze in my chest. My muscle became stiff. I can't move and yet, im not afraid.
