Dread of night. Dread of not-night.

        On she went dimly, into the lonely night amid the dark. In the midst a windbreak of black oaks, shadowy and vast, is before her. Her footsteps slow and careful. The leaves above her shudder, they're black with gloomy foliage. Her hair like rising smoke whirled in the air, the wind bit her eyes and tears streamed down her filthy cheeks. She blinked, and darkness overtook the light. She could just barely see the silhouettes of the trees. Her eyes adjusted to the change it was then that she noticed, something unspeakable was staring backwards at her, with eyes that glowed like fire. Disbelieving, a small sound escapes a bone-dry throat, her frozen blood stood still and clogged her veins. It's mouth was full of needle-like teeth in a white row, fearful and daunting, and upon it's grim brow lay a mane of golden locks entwined with bloody ribbons.

     It spoke, a powerful sound, "I am Phobos. What do you dread most in this world?" She answered not, so it spoke again "Did I steal the courage from your heart?" In a furious haste she atoned for her delay, "What I dread the most is already what I live." The monster looked offended but it seemed to already know this to be true. It replied with a growl then disappeared into the darkness from which it spawned. Then she was falling, no flying backwards, then she awoke. Completely alone.

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