Return to me and the streets will run red with blood.
They thought I was crazy. They told me it was all in my head. For years I believed them. Then I found a note, and a blade, and I now realize that although I turned my back to the night, it never turned its back on me. It just keeps calling, calling me back.
We called ourselves nightwalkers. Together we ruled the night, alone I broke us apart. I now search for them in the darkness, their shining green eyes, their shining silver blades, but I find nothing but empty streets bathed in moonlight, and the lonely cry of crickets. What has become of them? My question is perhaps answered by the sight of our old enemies. They call themselves Legion. They walk on our streets, hellfire eyes as crimson as their blades. I also see others, freaks, degenerates roaming the darkness. The night has changed, and not for the better.
I need to find her. The girl I gave my sanity for. Maybe she is out there somewhere, waiting for me once again. She is my only hope for redemption. She is perhaps the last of her kind. She is Chloe of the night.
“Keep going,” Chloe blurted, and they ran on. The strange man took a step away from the fire as they came towards him. The sleeves of his shirt hung in ribbons around his rail thin wrists. A bony finger pointed at them. Chloe and Sarah ran as fast as they could, veering away from the man in the tattered clothing. The untamed land to their right was too thick to trample down beneath their shoes, creating a wall that enclosed them in with him, trapping them together.
Chloe saw him coming for them in slow motion. The fabric swayed from his body. The mask was caked with grime, split at the bottom, revealing a wide open mouth. The remains of his teeth were in worse shape than the garage and shed they had just left behind. The fire crackled and popped behind him, throwing him into a wed of shadows. The bony finger swept at them. Chloe pushed herself as hard as she could. The man reached out for them, laughing. He was right beside them, so much quicker than she’d imagined. Chloe gasped, smelled the stink of him. She kept her eyes straight ahead, on their goal, their escape. She thought she felt the heat of his breath on her cheek, and then his finger gently brushed the skin on the back of her neck as they glided by, making her scream, and chills race down her spine. Chloe turned and saw him still reaching out for her as the glow of the cops flashlight ignited in the distance. Chloe looked ahead and saw a patch of trees before them, separating this little plot from the rest of the street. Then she looked back once more, and saw no sign of the tattered man. The fire burned and smoked. The little animal roasted. In the depths of the foliage she thought she saw him making his way through the rough terrain, going deeper and deeper into the darkness.