Bab 4: Fallow the leader

Kyle's room was a pretty small room. His bed in one corner, desk in the other and the door. The doorway that was supposed to be empty was full of a dark fabric so dark that it hurt his eyes. And tentacle like fingers stuck out of the suits cuffs. The faceless smudge was here. Standing in his door way. Right there in his room, in his house. Was he going to die? Would this faceless smudge with nothingness as his soul kill him? Would he do it with a gun, that would hurt less his grandfather, a veteran, said that a knife wound hurt more. Or would he do it with a knife? Make it more painful. The cold terror from this morning washed over him. Starting at his hair line and the slowly traveling down his neck to his spine. It seemed to creep in his heart and sent beads of sweat on his face. He tried to scream. A little groan was all. He was about to reach for his phone to call the police, but then the tentacle fingers reached for his hand to stop him. He groaned because no scream would come. The smudge man walked slowly over to his desk. Each step he took made a low groaning sound. Kyle shivered, his floor never creaked. The man sat on his desk. Kyle noticed how unusually tall and thin he was. He felt more shivers down his spine as cold as ice water. The tentacle fingers reached for a fedora on his head. The hat came off the smudge man's head. He was bald. His skin was pale and almost see through. Kyle saw his eyes where a deep color of red. Like blood from an old wound. A rotting old wound.