My parents had torn through my innocence and left me with a tar-like substance that was corrupting what was left of me. I could feel it at night; slithering and curling around my soul as it slowly devoured me. It was draining my energy and replacing it with an evil I was afraid to confront.
They lurk in the cold and dark. Hungry and, wicked, they wait for their one chance to devour the weak on Sorry Night. Then the vours feast on a banquet of fear. Your fear. They steal your soul but your body remains. No one knows the difference.