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Night falls; a furious tapping shakes the windowpane. You pull back the shade and peek out your head... and are confronted by a moth-like monstrosity born in the darkest recesses of imagination! A blinding flash of blue-green light shivers into your mind, and as the haze clears a robed figured, crowned with the face of death, leers at you through the glass. Eldritch whispers steal into your soul, seeking your light, your warmth. Your only defense is the mothballs in the closet... hopefully the smell doesn't overcome you first!

TYPE YOUR MIND (BUT DON'T BE A DICK)