DIRT NAPP 4.0 - CRIMSON DREAMS

Dirt Napp stopped sleeping around this time. Not by choice. The dreams started showing up before he closed his eyes. Sometimes before the sun even set.

He swears he didn’t take these. He swears they weren’t even on his camera. But every night, a few more appeared. Dark silhouettes. Pale faces. Velvet red rooms soaked in crimson liquid.

He says these women followed him home. Their eyes burned through the lens. Their laughter echoed from blank monitors. He tried to erase them. They reappeared.

Crimson Dreams isn’t a collection.
It’s a warning. And it hasn’t ended yet.