The suffocating darkness pressing in on you from all angles, a condescending parent tucking you into bed like a small child afraid of the dark, mommy please don't turn off the light. Heavy blanket folds blindfold your eyes leaving you terrified, during a time where your demons dance before you. The monsters never really lived under your bed. Overwhelming silences filled with only the tentative beats of your heart battering away inside your chest, unable to make sense of it all. You realize how alone you are in your mind when all you can hear are your own thoughts pounding against the inside of your skull, starving prisoners begging to get out. Millions of fuzzy television screens buzzing memories that only resurface when unknowingly you summon them in the early hours of the morning, why did I say that, how could I be so stupid? Hiding bits of yourself under lies and secrets weaved tightly together to reveal a perfect blanket in which to ensnare the pieces. Pondering over whether there really is a god and are they watching you in the pitch black of your quiet bedroom, tucked away under the covers, safe from everything but the monsters inside you. A silent war raging inside yourself, between the darkness and the light, but during the witching hour we know who will win the fight. Warriors of the light lost in the murky, obscure land of the aphotic, they are engrossed in its inky beauty. The dark one only cackles at their incompetence, as they stray deeper into his tangled web of corridors searching for a source of light in the long lasting darkness. It knows your secrets, your fears, your dreams, it knows all that you whispered in the shadows. Everything hidden in the many folds of its stifling mass. Your screams of rage, terror, frustration and melancholy are muffled by its roar of absolute silence.