Finding Darkness

Chapter 7

It is fully night when I decide to go back in. I stay a little while longer to watch the stars and moon arrive, dominating the night sky as if they own the whole space. This is always my favorite part of the night. Back home, there are no stars...at least, that is what I think.

Once I enter, I drift upstairs. I poke my head into Yuma's room and find that he is asleep. I pull my head out and go back downstairs. I sit in one of the chairs on one side of the table and remain still.

Normally at this time I would have gone into my trance-like state. It is not a substitute for sleeping, but it does help to relieve stress. Only the people of my world can do this.

Now though I cannot seem to go into that state even though it is achieved my simple will power. No matter how much I concentrate, I cannot relieve my mind of the tension from today. I wonder why. Maybe it has to do with today's events. That is sometimes the case.

I sigh and run my finger over the wound. It is slick with blood. It Is still bleeding. Why? Yuma says that wounds normally close up on their own. I have been out for three weeks; why is it still bleeding? I look at the warm blood on my hand. Black. The blood that is supposed to be clear is now black.

I glance dully at the clock. Twelve o'clock. Midnight. What humans call "The Witching Hour." Suddenly, a sound reaches my sensitive ears. I stiffen as the sound clears up and turns into many humans' shrill screaming. The sound of chaos.

I rush upstairs and enter Yuma's room. I throw off the covers. "Yuma!"

"What!" Yuma shouts in confusion at my sudden wake up call.

I quickly grab the collar of his shirt and drag him out the hall window. The cool night air whistles around us as I fly at top speed to where I heard the commotion.

"What's going on?" Yuma asks, all trace of the anger gone.

"I fear our killer has struck again," I answer. I "pick up the pace," rushing to get there before the murderer leaves.

Once we arrive, I put Yuma down rapidly. He tries to regain his balance as he is not used to flying without human machines.

I look around, trying to detect any life. "Shoot. We are much too late." I curse myself for not getting here sooner, for letting our murderer escape.  Something flits through the corner of my eye. A snake-like figure darting through the shadows. I turn quickly, but I find nothing.

"Whoa. What did this?" Yuma wonders aloud. He inspects the area, looking for anything that might help.

"Too bad the culprit escaped," I murmur thoughtfully, biting my thumb nail again. "We would be able to know."

Yuma stretches and yawns. "Let's take a look in the morning, Astral. I'm tired."

"You go, Yuma," I answer. "I will stay here and look closer."

Yuma leaves as I keep searching. The snake-shadow thing is still imprinted into my mind, as if the image wishes to tell me something. When I decide to leave myself, it is no longer the Witching Hour. One o'clock. One hour after morning.