Side note, this was a nightmare that I wrote down with the intention of making into a short story.
I won't get that far.
I realize now that I am every character in this anthology of short horror fiction. And at the end of each story the death that claims me comes in the form of a small mannish figure that seems to be made out of dark lacquered wood. He has no face or genitalia. His head is a smooth polished ball of wood. Atop the ball-head there is almost-hair which has the texture of cornsilk. His torso is rounded and barrel-like. In one polished stick arm he carries a poison dart (though he has no hands), so he does not have to get close to me and so my death is quick and silent. Each time he shows it is the dart that does me in finally. No matter how the story begins it is the Kuuqee Ku and the dart that finishes. When he appears I hear whispering all about, as though a creepy auditorium has just dimmed the lights before the show. This time before the dart hits me I have time to think, "Why am I so convinced the Kuuqee Ku is a man?" I wake again and almost immediately the Kuuqee Ku reappears, now there is not even time to play out the story. The most important part is just my death.