Veiled Malevolence

    In the shadowy corners of my perception, a vision emerged—a tall, gaunt woman cloaked in the garb of a nun. A sight both mesmerizing and unsettling. She defied the laws of nature, suspended in mid-air, her body levitating four feet above the ground. Slowly, she rotated, casting an otherworldly silhouette against the dimly lit backdrop.

     An eerie hum emanated from her ethereal presence, a dissonant melody that sent shivers down my spine. As my feet propelled me forward, curiosity mingled with trepidation, an insatiable desire to unravel the enigma before me. I drew nearer, my heart pounding like a drumbeat of impending doom.

     And then, in the flickering light, her features became unmistakable. Her skin, as black as the deepest abyss, swallowed all traces of light, radiating an aura of malevolence. Eyes devoid of color or compassion pierced through the veil of my sanity, drawing me deeper into a maelstrom of fear.

     An icy grip constricted my chest, and panic surged through my veins like a toxic elixir. The revelation struck with undeniable force—she was not a mere mortal clad in holy vestments. No, she was a being of darkness, a harbinger of unnameable terrors.

     Yet, as I recoiled from her presence, my imagination unraveled a wicked tapestry. Within the confines of my mind, a distorted image materialized—a blasphemous fusion of divine and infernal. Jesus, distorted and twisted, adorned with a crown of horns. Arcs of electric energy gripped his hair, yanking it back in a torturous dance.

     In that moment, the boundaries between reality and nightmare blurred, and I found myself teetering on the precipice of a horrifying revelation. The veil that concealed the true nature of our existence, of the forces that lurked in the depths of the unseen, was thinning. An unspeakable truth lingered just beyond reach, threatening to unravel the very fabric of my perception.

     My mind, a playground for the macabre, plunged deeper into the rabbit hole, consumed by a cocktail of terror and fascination. For what lay before me was not a mere encounter with a demon, but a glimpse into a distorted realm where angels wore horns, and electricity harnessed the hair of divine figures.

     In the face of such malevolent majesty, I trembled, my fragile sense of reality hanging by a thread. The world I once knew had shattered, leaving behind fragments of my shattered psyche. How could one reconcile the unfathomable horrors that lurked beneath the veneer of our existence?

    The answers, like whispers in the dark, eluded me, but I knew one thing for certain—what I had witnessed would forever haunt the recesses of my soul, etching a tale of cosmic terror that would forever leave me trembling in the embrace of the unknown.

I wake up.