8/11 100 Word Challenge

By Anonymous -
Prompt:


Shadows snatch at the light, tendrils lashing out into the cobbled street as they shuffle. Trailing feet behind their broken bodies, victims to the icy grip of death. Tinged blue against the endless night, their misted figures weave through the glowing streets, a wintry murmur in their wake. The glass in a shop window frosts over as the shadow’s tendrils reach out to claim it’s glow. One by one, the lights in the street flicker slowly, then die out as a swirling black mass surges above, devouring, consuming, thunderous roaring. All that’s left will forever remain; victims to the shadows.

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