Those monsters in your closets and under your beds? They are just as real as us. The difference is that we fear what we don't understand, while they understand exactly, what we fear.
If I rolled the dice carved out of my weathered boneAnd offered of my blood the libation to the faneWhen even the reaper__ mockery forsakes me aloneMy own clangorous thoughts are the last to remain
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If I rolled the dice carved out of my weathered boneAnd offered of my blood the libation to the faneWhen even the reaper__ mockery forsakes me aloneMy own clangorous thoughts are the last to remain
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These streets belong to us because we decided not to punch the time clock. We decided to see what and f*ck is going on out here when all those other people are going to sleep. So we walk from dusk until dawn and we rule.
Magic is a naughty beast.
Walk with this tomorrow night. If nothing happens, thendon__ come back. Forget about us, this place, but if you feel theNightwalker in you awaken, then return to where you belong.Return to me, and the streets will run red with blood.
Just tell yourself they're only stories. Pamela K. Kinney (Spectre Nightmares and Visitations)
Snow came back, but she didn't come back right.