Night's Life
Prologue
He was running hurriedly in the dark corridors of Manila City Hall, trying to be as quiet as he could. He was being followed - by the darkness, from the darkness. He could not ask anyone for help since there was no one around. Not even a guard. He felt like crying, but he did his best not to. He could not and must not make any noise. He climbed the clock tower, stumbling as he ascended from the concrete staircase. He could barely see the lively lights outside - from cars, buildings, and Christmas lights. He could barely hear the honking of the cars stuck in traffic, nor could he barely hear his own breathe.
As he reached the topmost part of the clock tower he realized that the windows were all shut, but one. He opened it, thinking whether or not he'll end up his life instead of being taken by the darkness. He was also wishing that he'd be rescued by whoever can rescue him - guards, co-janitors. Just anyone. He breathed deeply, gathering all the strength and courage he has left in his body, when he realized that he could not move his own body.
"W-why are you doing this to me?" He could not keep the fear from his voice. He could feel his entire body shaking, not from the cold breeze entering from the window, but from the fear he was feeling. Fear for himself. And fear from the darkness. The sound of the city below was slowly fading, he could now hear his heartbeat and his breathing.
From the darkness, a towering figure revealed itself. It was wearing a mask, painted in black and red. It was wearing a black cloak, as black as the shadows, as black as the darkness behind it. It walked toward him, both noisily and quietly, imposing its presence to him while hiding it from everything else. Clack. Clack. Clack. He was standing there, frozen, for what seemed like forever when he realized that the clacking sound of its footsteps stopped. He knew that it was behind him, despite his back facing it, and despite the fact that he could not see any reflection of it from the window mirrors. It was breathing heavily; its cold breathe touched the man's nape. He could feel the chills from his nape, its breathe colder than the Christmas breeze, colder than the fear he felt.
It spoke in a language unfamiliar to him with a voice as deep as any man could imagine. Weirdly, he seemed to understand what it said. The man could feel the darkness enveloping him. His sensations went numb and his consciousness giving up from the coldness of the thing behind him.
Three days later, papers were pasted on electric posts and walls. In it was a black and white picture of the man with a caption "MISSING: Julian Gomez. 23 years old".
As he reached the topmost part of the clock tower he realized that the windows were all shut, but one. He opened it, thinking whether or not he'll end up his life instead of being taken by the darkness. He was also wishing that he'd be rescued by whoever can rescue him - guards, co-janitors. Just anyone. He breathed deeply, gathering all the strength and courage he has left in his body, when he realized that he could not move his own body.
"W-why are you doing this to me?" He could not keep the fear from his voice. He could feel his entire body shaking, not from the cold breeze entering from the window, but from the fear he was feeling. Fear for himself. And fear from the darkness. The sound of the city below was slowly fading, he could now hear his heartbeat and his breathing.
From the darkness, a towering figure revealed itself. It was wearing a mask, painted in black and red. It was wearing a black cloak, as black as the shadows, as black as the darkness behind it. It walked toward him, both noisily and quietly, imposing its presence to him while hiding it from everything else. Clack. Clack. Clack. He was standing there, frozen, for what seemed like forever when he realized that the clacking sound of its footsteps stopped. He knew that it was behind him, despite his back facing it, and despite the fact that he could not see any reflection of it from the window mirrors. It was breathing heavily; its cold breathe touched the man's nape. He could feel the chills from his nape, its breathe colder than the Christmas breeze, colder than the fear he felt.
It spoke in a language unfamiliar to him with a voice as deep as any man could imagine. Weirdly, he seemed to understand what it said. The man could feel the darkness enveloping him. His sensations went numb and his consciousness giving up from the coldness of the thing behind him.
Three days later, papers were pasted on electric posts and walls. In it was a black and white picture of the man with a caption "MISSING: Julian Gomez. 23 years old".
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Hi lot! This is my first time writing a story, and I'll be posting it here! I hope you'll enjoy it <3xoxo