[26 short stories of surrealistic horror]
To begin, find a source of static. Static is everywhere. To look is to find.
The sanity wallpapering the world is thin and grows thinner every day. Everywhere there are little holes where order has broken down. So put an eye or ear to a hole and witness the storm gathering beyond. Turn the static up as loud as you can endure and listen.
The hive is listening back. The thing. The space in the middle. The forgotten. The overlooked. The nameless, constantly grasping towards a name and a shape. And above all, a home.
You might find you like static. You might find you like chaos. This means the hive is building its home in you.
