Wing0Eater

I know your fear, I know it well I know its taste, I know its smell It comes to wake me, it says good night It tests your courage to do whats right It stays your tongue when you wish to speak It makes me strong when you are weak It is my sword, it is my shield It is my thrall to which you yield I hold no quarter, I shed no tear For I am the eater of your fear

It plays out in your head like an old home movie from the 50's, with blips and pops in the audio. With scratches and discolorations in the frames that flash across the screen. You remember walking up to the door, knocking and being welcomed with a smile and a greeting. You step inside and the feeling of a safe, cordial atmosphere invites you to relax and enjoy yourself. Walking down the entryway you see pieces of art, family photos and little nicks and nacks that seem to take up every square inch of the white walls. Everything is ordinary and comfortable. Until you get to the living room, this is where everything falls apart. To your right,