They slid over us like the stars the night, white ghosts stalking the cosmos. Albinos, as like us as not, They confronted us in nightmares and found us wanting. Nameless, They took our everything in intangible truths and left us with nothing. They, we called them, those reflections of us.
They appeared one night when the moon didn’t shine. A shambling, mumbling, ink blot of broken humanity, they made our world their own. It was an invasion of those who’d peeped and planned, sampled our cast offs and found us wanting. The sewers, their former kingdom. They came from beneath.