One Quiet Night

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The fire was burning out. Thee rubble glowed yellow and orange, spilling dim light into the living room. A small cat laid, curled in a ball, purring as the warmth seeped in. In the shadows, the shape of a dog and a girl lay on deprecate couches. Both are asleep. The girl lies with her blanket up to her nose, breathing slowly. Everyone has gone to bed.

Outside, it was snowing rapidly. Faint signs of cats paw prints lay in the white. Two cars sit in the driveway, completely covered. Only one light can be seen through the blizzard, its light glowing dimly through the heavy storm. The street is indistinguishable from the sidewalk. Only a gate tells you where the other side of the street ends.

Standing by that gate is human figure, the snow falling to avoid him. He stands, in a black coat, black jeans, black boots, his face and hands hidden. He raises his head, opens his eyes, and smiles. No light, but the face glows. No nose lies in its place. Eyes the color of ice and just as cold. A toothless crooked smile. Scars criss-cross the face, leaving no natural skin behind.

It stands there and stares for a minute, completely still, as if frozen. Slowly, a glowing white hand raises, out of the jacket, and points. Points at the girl. The girl, laying by the fire, blanket to her nose. The glass shatters, piercing the silence in the night.

A second passes...

Three people run to the living room, but the girl is gone...and so is the glowing creature in the hood.

The fire was now ash.

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