DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 6: A Stranger's Warning

>>>>> Darla had always prided herself on being level-headed. A street-smart police officer with a sharp intuition and an iron-clad will, she had dealt with the worst the city of Celestia had to offer—gangsters, corrupt politicians, murderers—and faced it all without flinching. But these last few days had left her shaken. First, the disturbing dreams that seemed to claw at her subconscious, then the attack in the alley by a creature that defied any rational explanation. And now, lying in her hospital bed, Darla couldn't shake the sense that something far darker was lurking just beneath the surface of her life.

It was late, nearly midnight, and the hospital was quiet. Lionel had finally left after spending hours by her side, reassuring her that things would be okay, even though she knew he didn't fully believe her story about the shadowy figure or the demon-like creature. She couldn't blame him—everything that had happened seemed unreal, even to her. But it had been real. The blood, the pain, the fear—they had all been too vivid to dismiss.

She lay back against the pillows, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the room. Her eyes drifted to the window, where the moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow over the city. Her thoughts were still racing, trying to make sense of the impossible. The creature's attack, the mysterious figure who had saved her—who were they? What did they want?

Just as Darla was beginning to drift into an uneasy sleep, she heard it—a soft but distinct sound, like footsteps approaching her door. She immediately tensed, her senses on high alert. The hospital's quiet corridors amplified every sound, making it difficult to discern whether the footsteps were coming from the hallway or her mind playing tricks.

Suddenly, the door to her room creaked open, and a tall figure stepped inside. Darla's heart skipped a beat as she instinctively reached for the call button beside her bed, but the figure raised a hand, stopping her.

"Don't," the man said, his voice low and rough, but not threatening.

Darla's hand hovered over the button, but something about the man's calm yet urgent demeanor stopped her from pressing it. She narrowed her eyes, studying him. He was dressed in a long, dark coat, his face partially obscured by the shadows, but she could see enough to tell that he wasn't someone she recognized. His features were sharp, almost ageless, with dark eyes that seemed to carry a weight of knowledge far beyond what any normal person would possess.

"Who the hell are you?" Darla asked, her voice sharp, though her body was too weak to move from the bed. Her mind raced with questions and suspicion. She wasn't one to trust easily—especially not strangers sneaking into her hospital room in the middle of the night.

The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, moving into the sliver of moonlight streaming through the window. Darla could see him more clearly now. His hair was dark and shoulder-length, his skin pale against the shadows of his coat. There was something eerie about him, but also a strange sense of familiarity, as though he didn't entirely belong to this world.

"You're in danger, Darla," he said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. "Your life... it's about to change in ways you can't even imagine."

Darla's eyes narrowed even further, her instincts telling her that this man was no ordinary intruder. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

The man's gaze softened for a moment, as if he felt a sense of sympathy for her. "I can't stay long. They'll sense my presence if I do. But you need to understand... what happened to you in that alley was only the beginning."

Her mind flashed back to the creature, to the battle that had nearly cost her, her life. "That thing... what was it? And who saved me?"

The man hesitated, glancing toward the window as if checking for something unseen. He then reached into the folds of his coat and pulled out a small, ancient-looking medallion. It was round, worn with age, and etched with strange symbols that Darla didn't recognize but somehow felt a connection to. He held it out to her, and she instinctively reached for it, her fingers brushing the cool metal.