SleepWalker

Chapter 3

The men circled her menacingly. Darcy darted her eyes from side to side like a cornered deer.
"Help!" She shrieked. "Somebody, please help!"
The closest man drew a knife and lunged. Darcy cowered, screwing her eyes shut. She waited for the pain to start. It didn't.
When she looked up, her view was blocked by a tall lanky man. He had his back to her so she couldn't make out his face.
"Who are you?" Asked one of the men. He had the bearing of a leader. Clearly he was the one in charge.
"That's none of your concern," said the newcomer. Darcy recognised the voice. He was the one who had helped her.
The men drew their weapons, some holding knifes, others guns. The leader aimed his gun at the new guy.
"Get out of here," he said.
"Or what?" The newcomer snapped back. "You'll kill me? Go ahead and try."
The man grinned and pulled the trigger.

For a long moment, Darcy stared in horror. She waited for the man to crumple and fall, blood gushing from his chest. What happened instead was maybe even more terrifying.
Instead of keeling over, the man reached out and plucked the gun from his attacker's hand. He smacked the man across his face with the butt of the gun, knocking him out cold. One of the men lunged at him with a knife but the knife passed through thin air, it's intended victim having disappeared. Darcy thought maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or I'm going mad. Neither explanation was comforting.
Suddenly, a hand appeared, reaching out from the shadow cast by a man and pulled him hard on to the floor. The others started to panic, those with guns firing wildly. Darcy watched as her would be rapists were driven slowly insane. Her rescuer reappeared, this time at the top of a flight of creaky old stairs. The room became silent as the men all stared up at him. His face was still hidden in shadow but Darcy could make out his eyes, deep and pitch black, like tunnels to another world. A fire seemed to dance in them, something both playful and dangerous. Something ancient.
"Boo!" He said. That was the last straw. The men started howling wildly and ran into the walls. Darcy blinked and he was standing right in front of her, grabbing her arm. His touch was cold as ice.
She could finally make out his features. He had deathly pale skin, high cheeks and an air of power, as if he was some sort of king. Then there were his eyes. Up close they were even more disorienting. The more Darcy stared into them, the more she felt sure he was anything but human.
"I am Morpheus," he said in his deep velvety voice. "Are you alright?"
Darcy tried to reply, she really did. But for some reason her mouth had stopped working and no air seemed to come out of her lungs. Finally, she did the only logical thing. She fainted.

Introducing .... The Supreme Lord of Dreams, The sensational Sandman, the one and only.... MORPHEUS!!!
Always wanted to do that. So I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. I'm looking for a cover artist to help design the cover for this work so if you're interested please let me know. Also I'm completely open to suggestions on how to improve my work.
If you've enjoyed the ride so far, and if you have questions as to what exactly is this schist, explanations will be given next chapter. Probably. 😉😉😉