Supernatural

Monsters are real; they are there, everywhere, hidden in the shadows,
They send shivers down my spine; my body's aching all the time,
In the hell's depth, they were waiting too much.
Many of them are tired, now. They'll find us; their eyes are sparkling in the black.
Thunder's grumbling.
Ghosts, avenging spirits, reapers, demons, wendigos, wraiths, all of them; they are here.
Thunder's grumbling and lights are twinkling.
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
I feel them, don't you?
People around, they go, as nothing happen. They hobble; try to stand against the life's strength.
No luck, there. Am sorry, listen, we'll all die.
A door from hell has been opened; humankind is dying since too many years: centuries, millennia, maybe.
Thunder's grumbling, will you do the Fandango?
I try to, but it's less easy than it seems.
When you know they are somewhere, looking at you from the shadow, through your window, going along the walls, ready to dive on you when you're barely asleep, you change:
I am dancing just in front of my opened window, since the beginning of the night, I'm listening to the long Bohemian Rhapsody, again and again and again: I taunt them, to prove myself I'm not scared anymore. But you know, I wish I could whisper to you: “Hell, I am. They frighten me.”
What's the matter?
There is no way, no way to go out.
Thunder's grumbling. And anyway, the wind blows.
They'll find us, each of us, everybody, and one after one.
As a matter of fact, tomorrow, the sun will rise on a bloody Earth.
Humankind has to die, I guess.
Everybody knows that.
But monsters? God, you are cruel.
May I have a last dance? A last song? A last happy-story before-to-die? A last last-night-on-Earth speech? Will they take me even that?
No last wish. I can understand. I'd do the same.
Is it ever too late? Can I try the we-won't-do-it-again argument?
But obviously, it doesn't matter. However… Maybe…
No, no, no.
Thunder's grumbling.
I apologize, for everything. I turn off the lights, the radio, open the door and sit in the threshold.
Hellhounds can come: death has never really afraid me. And I know, now.
I'm just freaking crazy. A moron. I've always be. Everybody knew it.
Thunder's grumbling.
Where are you?
I have to die. We all have to die. I can be the first offering.
Hi, darkness.
Take the bloody myself.
Again.