A man; short, stocky, clutching his chest like he’s holding something that isn’t there. He mutters to himself, words tumbling out in broken fragments. His clothes are strange: a pale blue dress shirt, dark slacks and polished shoes. Not from my time. Not from any time I know. I pause. He looks so… odd. So out of place. Like he was dropped here by mistake. He keeps muttering, rocking slightly, eyes locked on the ground. Then, without warning, he looks up. His eyes meet mine. “She knows you’re here,” have the writing almost ghostly or smoky. have the background with a few human shapes in the fog but also dark figures hiding in the fog with the others, have the dark entities be demonic in nature. Ver más