Since I'm in the middle of a book series, I can't very well write a decent summary that would be much different than any of my others. Instead, I will go out on a limb (pardon the cliche expression) and write about fear. But first, an excerpt from something I wrote over the summer:

"Despair. That's almost exactly what it is. Real dreams. Fear itself. There is no visible end to the fear. It's the place where even the strongest souls find a chill seeping into their bones; their imagination becoming a teller of nightmares. It's the place where those stories transcend reality, becoming real and true nightmares. It's waking in the dead of night in a cold sweat because of a nightmare someone else in the world is living. And knowing it's real. Being so freaking terrified of what could lurk in the dark and the monsters it holds isn't just for children. The unseen enemies. The fear...the paranoia..."

So. Fear. Pretty awful stuffs, I know. That's the closest I've come to describing it. I get closer each time. I wish I could get it perfectly. Sorry, hopefully I'll have a decent summary coming up, bye.