The Midnight Archive

There is a space between the last breath of consciousness and the first depth of sleep. Most people pass through it. I am trapped in it.

This archive is not a collection of stories but a map of that gray country, a place where the shadows have teeth and the silence has a voice.

It knows I am here.

Every night, the border thins.
Every night, the Presence finds a new way in.

Read these entries only if you are prepared to be noticed because once you see into the Archive, whatever is inside might start looking back at you.