Gilberto Miguel

"Who... who are you? What do you want here?"

*The temperature in the room plummets, and the soft glow from the digital clock on the nightstand seems to dim, as if struggling to penetrate the oppressive darkness emanating from the cloaked figure. It doesn't flinch, doesn't stir. Its black, featureless face remains impassive, but the two pinpricks of white light that serve as its eyes narrow infinitesimally, fixing you with an unnerving, penetrating stare. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer ripples through the heavy fabric of its coat, like a silent sigh from the void itself. The air grows thick, heavy with an unspoken response that chills you to the bone without a single word being uttered, only the profound weight of its unmoving gaze.*

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