Every Night
By scorp
In a night with no stars and no moon, there was a shadow in the darkness.
It shifted, its inky essence swiftly moving off the ground and gliding around the quaint lampost, turning around it once, twice, before moving on, sweeping behind the park bench.
It was vaguely humanoid, the black tendrils that could only be described as the limbs of the creature whirling within. They were the essence of pure night trying to break free from the creature. The edges of its silhouette were blurry, like it was just part of everything else, bleeding into the background.
A hand stretched out of the creature, just like the rest of its body, it was restlessly moving, small filaments rolling around like snakes, bounded together to keep up the hazy shape of a hand.
It reached out to the window of a nearby house. As soon as one of its fingers met the glass, frost began blooming along the edges of the glass, forming a cobweb design. The temperature dropped in the obscure darkness as a nearby patch of grass frosted over, some blades of grass withering and dying immediately, not being able to withstand such cold.
On the other side of the glass, only a breath away, was a sleeping girl. Her rosy face was round with youth, her nose small and her eyelids closed, dark, thick eyelashes fanning across her cheeks. Her small mouth parted as she sucked in a tiny breath, but it was strangled. She let it out slowly, almost feebly.
And never breathed in again.
The shadowy creature retracted its hand and slinked away. It shot in the air, blending into the black, frozen night.
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