And it was via these fractured portals that they could see the figures within. They were ghostly in aspect yet seemed curiously solid, pale but resonating wastrels that looked to be festooned in opaque, pallidly shimmering jewels, vague and barely coruscant reminders of an otherworldly power that was on the wane.
Open mouthed and staring, the tremulous features of the spectres were wasted and distant. And yet, however pathetic in their soulless angst, they presented as a forlornly hopeful army of undead impenitence, one whose sole purpose was the entrapment of others.
If not for the ear plugs, their plaintive wails of longing would burrow into the subconscious and plant their desperate seed, a beseeching prayer that would very quickly persuade the unlucky or the ignorant that their only
