Cloak and Dagger.

A black night, moon hang bright in sky.

A night so black as the cresent of white lights the sky.

There, the hill! I swear I saw!

A figure cloaked in shadow holding himself as if the black was nothing but an extension of his own self. 

There on that hill he stand eyes glazing at my own, I begin to take flight.

I dash between the husks of the faded oaks, all casted in the same black that I and my pursuer both take on.

Wait. Pursuer? Has he left the hill? 

I gaze back at the hill and see the figure still cloaked in black. Yet closer. 

Wait. In my fearful dash had I moved towards what I hoped to avoid? Had I just circled the mount?

I look up once again, the figure had not moved. He stood still as the sliver crest in the heavens above, but, closer.

No. Neither of us had taken a step. 

No. We stood still. 

As if all of space was benting itself to bring us closer.

He stands only 40 paces away now. 

35.

30.

20.

6.

1.

Never made a step he had, yet now we stood. The figure in darkness, eye to eye we were. His gaze met mine. 

No. No gaze.

How could one gaze without eyes? Only space where his eyes should have been. dark, dark space. 

His breath cold, as a winters night.

No. No cold.

How could a breath never taken be cold? He stood still, like a corpse. 

A sickly smile crossed his face. So sickly.

No. The face was not that of a man. A woman.

Her face bites at back of my mind. 

A familiar face. 

That of a lost love? No... no.

That of a mother? No... no.

That of a friend? No... no.

That of a photo or portiait? No... no.

I remember. The face of one who fell. One who died.

She takes a gasp, a sudden gasp.

Her eyes were not ones of black, no. Amber. Warm and friendly.

Why had she gasped? I looked down in her cloak. A grey blouse, now stained with red. 

Blood, still warm.

I look down at my hands once again. The right hand gripped a blade. My own blade. 

Now it was there, imbedded in this poor womans lower half. 

Now she fall back. Lay with a thud. Face once warm, now cold. 

On my knees, I look at the blade. 

The reflection of the sliver bell still hanging in the sky. 

I see only darkness now. I feel only darkness, cold. So cold. 

I take up the womans cloak. Still black as night and wrap myself in its dark, warm embrace. 

I gaze off the hill top. 

Who is that in the distance I see?