by Lori R. Lopez
The eyes watched, rapt, unblinking. There was no sound other than the ringing of his ears. But they couldn’t hear that, the family he viewed. They went about their lives unaware, blind and deaf to his presence. He was almost part of the family, knowing them so intimately, all of their secrets, things they didn’t even know about each other. He lived in their walls, behind mirrors and paintings, in the cracks and crawlspaces. He had built this house, and now he guarded it. An ethereal presence, hovering like a ghastly sentinel. He would never leave. And neither would they.
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