The Un-Men of Tindalos move in dark fashions, dark angled shapes outlined against the heresy of the curved times. It is they who you see in your fevered terrors, the presence you never lay eyes on, the ones you fear.
Athirst with the desire for the curved form, they flit in and out of the curved heresies with the Hounds never too far behind. Those who only see the dogs are the lucky ones, for they are not taken.
You will never escape the thrice-damned abortion that is Tindalos if you are taken there, for the Un-Men perceive things differently than you and I. Seconds are eons to the Un Men, matter a mere illusion, and space a plaything to their perception. Their "city", if it is a city at all, will break your brain in more ways than one with it's will that is not a will.
Your form is stolen from you, the Un-Men infiltrating into curved space-time for purposes unknown. You are left to linger in Tindalos forever, never to return to the world of men.
Accept your fate if you attract the attention of a Un-Man, for that is all you can do.
For, I Alhazed Al-Iremi, proclaim this. There is nothing in Allah's creation or Iblis's that will save you from these beasts, for they will find you.