The Dark

Darkness holds a sacred place in stories. In shadows lurk the terrors man cannot see—vampires, ghouls, ghosts. Yet darkness serves a higher purpose. Without light, there is no dark; without dark, no light. The contrast gives depth, meaning. The absence makes the presence precious. So when terror waits in that dark alley, remember: without you, the terror is merely a dream.

Liquid darkness poured from the tree line as flames devoured the forest. The beasts advanced on four legs, leaving obsidian pools in their wake. They snarled and snapped at each other, closing the hundred yards between us with unnatural speed.

At Norma's side, I studied our hunters. Time seemed to slow. Shadow-teeth retracted between snaps. Black lines threaded through sinuous muscles like veins of night itself. Their eyes were panes of dark glass, reflecting the dying day.

Eventide Terror, the knowledge whispered, cold and hungry. The words felt wrong, as if no fire could ward off their chill. Like with Norma's title earlier—knowledge thrust unbidden into my mind. Questions for later, if we survived.

Norma fell back as Dan and I braced. Three defenders against thirty beasts—we could only pray they'd ignore the children.

The first Terror leaped, muscles defying physics. Norma's flames consumed it mid-jump, its screech piercing the air. I moved faster than sight, opening throats with razor talons. Dan joined the dance, our movements synchronized destruction. Bodies fell with each strike.

As the last Terror dropped, a rifle cracked.

Pain blossomed in my chest. A hole pumped life-blood with each heartbeat. Dan caught me as I fell.

"Stay with me," he pressed the wound. "You'll be fine, Jace."

The pain blazed. The bastard had shot me.

"Burn," Norma whispered with deadly intent.

"No," I choked through the hole in my diaphragm.

She glared. "They tried to kill ya, kid. Sometimes you gots to cut out the rot to let the flesh heal."

I pulled a Terror's corpse close, surrendering to thirst. The blood tasted wrong, tainted, but strength flooded back. The bullet inched out as flesh knit. I caught the burning metal before it fell.

"Your face..." Norma gasped.

"Nice emo look," Dan smirked.

His sword's reflection showed black lines tracing from my eyes and mouth, following veins like the Terrors' shadows.

"We don't have time," I stood. "These people have been alone for days, watching monsters roam, waiting to die. Let's talk before burning houses."

The door opened to a small boy, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, mister. Are you here to take our food like the others?"

"Anthony William Stout! Let your father handle this!"

A weary man appeared, cobweb-covered, rifle ready. My shooter. He nodded us in, but invisible force blocked my path. His sneer showed recognition.

"Beast. Defiler." He aimed.

Dan's blade kissed his throat. "Allow him entry, or there'll be no owner to bar him."

"I invite you into my home," he growled.

The barrier fell, though I sensed he could revoke permission. "Dan, release him. I won't fault a man protecting his family."

"If he raises that gun again, he dies." The threat hung heavy. What had days of battle done to my friend?

"I'm Asphodel," I said. "Something of a vampire. Let me tell you my story, then decide if you'll join us."

"I watched you tear beasts apart, drink their blood. Why follow you anywhere?" He spat at my feet.

"At least tell me your name before hearing me out."

"Dale. Hurt my kids..."

"I give you my word—I will not harm your children." Power wrapped the oath around my heart.

Hours later, Dale tolerated us enough to agree to evacuation. His family bore infinity marks like ours, though his children's screens remained empty—something about the age of majority, I suspected.

When the others slept, I climbed to the roof. The chaos needed processing, and the night offered quiet for contemplation.