They are the only ones that can’t be found. I am the only one who can find them. Seven hidden shadows with an unseeable depth and future unknown to even themselves. Seven whose lives have all but vanished and still live. Seven disappearances from our world. From the corner of my eye I can see them, but my mind tells me different.

Their presence is secret. They silently slide through our world. They cannot be heard, they cannot be touched or smelled, but in the throes of death, they can be seen, towering over the world, their anger vibrating. This is how they live.

Let one wonder off his path, and they all scatter like ant, each with a target in their minds. Live, live, live they say, but not what they think. They kill.
When I am too old and too depressed to keep living, when I have shrunk to nothing compared to the world, then it is I waiting for the shadows. When there is nothing left for me in this life. Seven whose lives meant nothing. Seven who take and don’t forget to take. Seven whose only reason is to stay hidden and hidden.