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“He’d never been afraid of the dark—even after the Shadows came and tried to kill him in the night—but that was because the dark itself used to be empty. Now it was not. He could feel it, whatever it was, hovering in the air around him, waiting until the sun went down and the world got quiet. Quiet enough to think. Thoughts, those were the waiting things, and once they started up, he couldn’t seem to silence them. Saints, how he tried.” — V.E. Schwab
He’d never been afraid of the dark—even after the Shadows came and tried to kill him in the night—but that was because the dark itself used to be empty. Now it was not. He could feel it, whatever it was, hovering in the air around him, waiting until the sun went down and the world got quiet. Quiet enough to think. Thoughts, those were the waiting things, and once they started up, he couldn’t seem to silence them.
Saints, how he tried.