It was a quiet neighborhood. The only sounds were the soft chirps from the birds and the faint sound of a car’s engine. All was quiet. Time passes slowly, ticking away. Everyone enjoying their own little lives. No conflicts. No fights. No violence. Yet despite all of the peacefulness, everyone lives in fear. Fear that “The Thing” would come after them. Scared that “The Thing” would engulf them. Afraid that “The Thing” would consume their very existence. Every now and then “The Thing” would come out, ambushing its victim when the victim is weakest and least expects it. Tearing them apart, slowly and painfully. “The Thing” shows no remorse. It would attack people, and then disappear, waiting for its next prey. People called “The Thing” many different names. “Monster,” “The Devil ,” or even “Pure Evil.” But the most frequent name people would call “The Thing” was “Self-Doubt.”