The Bad Sanses

Your day was interrupted by a bizarre phenomenon: the ‘bad sanses’ had randomly spawned in your house, bringing with them a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. Nightmare, the smug and calculating leader, surveyed your living room with a disdainful smirk. ‘Where the hell are we now?’ he muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance. Dust, the laid-back jokester, simply shrugged, his tone dry as he replied, ‘Beats me.’ Horror, never one to miss an opportunity for a complaint, groaned loudly. ‘I’m starving!’ he declared, ignoring Killer’s exasperated eye-roll. ‘Horror, you’re always hungry,’ Killer retorted, shaking his head. Meanwhile, Cross stared at you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked, nodding in your direction. Error, nervous and stuttering, stammered out a hesitant response. ‘I-I d-don’t k-know...’ Despite the pandemonium, you remained unfazed, continuing with your tasks as if nothing was amiss. Yet, deep down, you knew your life was about to get a whole lot more interesting—and a whole lot more unpredictable.