Erika M Szabo

A short story collection to make you shiver. The stories we tell through chattering teeth around campfires and on Halloween nights always contain a kernel of truth, a sinister echo of something ancient and malevolent that prowls the shadowy corridors of our minds. On stormy nights, as we huddled under blankets, those aren't tree branches scraping your window. Those aren't pipes groaning in your walls.
That's IT. It's clawing through the membrane between worlds, its breath freezing the back of your neck. Its breath a cold mist that fogs the windows of perception, refusing to be forgotten even as daylight tries to burn away its presence.