They don't scream.
They wait.
From Michael A. Riddell, author of Tiny Horrors: 300 Micro Tales of Terror, comes a new collection of nightmares carved small enough to slip under your skin - four hundred one-paragraph stories of dread, decay, and the quiet things that refuse to die.
These are the whispers left behind when the lights go out - the echoes that breathe through walls, the faces caught half-formed in mirrors, the softest sounds that never stop once you've heard them.
Every tale is a heartbeat.
Every page is a breath you'll wish you hadn't taken.
When you close this book, the stories won't be over.
They'll just be waiting.