Obscurity

𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔱𝔥 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 ☽

A dark shadowy figure crawled, ominously advancing straight to the guys, mixing with the damp soil of the ground. Its speed was fast, reaching the tempo of a gale.

It dived beneath the roots, crawling in a zigzag line and leaving a small trail of the black, barely visible path of ashes.

In the distance, a small branch broke whilst suddenly, the sound of rustling leaves echoed in the mute, pitch-black forest.

"Did you hear that?" a man explained in a cowardly whisper.

"It's just the wind," the other sternly reasoned.

"I'll go check it out just in case," uttered the first one.

When the man's silhouette blended with the blinding darkness, the other sighed, "I can't believe he's one of us...Scared for no reason...Why the fuck am I supposed to be on patrol with this useless idiot." he angrily mumbled to himself.

The first guard reached a spot between two thick bushes. He clumsily undid his zipper and shoved his hand inside his pants. Before he could take out his biggest pride, between his legs, he glanced down. 

They both underestimated the utter blackness of nighttime in the woods. Either they lacked the ability to use their senses or they were oblivious to believe that anyone would set foot in this eerie forest. 

Underneath his feet passively crept a shadow. At first glance, one could mistake it for the one belonging to the guy. But shadows don't form without the assistance of moonlight. Shadows are the true form of one's bodily position. 

It was different. It was something more terrifying than the mute forest silently screaming. Its shape was different from the latter's position almost enough to be mistaken for a black puddle of some sort. Its surface was slightly moving, mimicking a respirational process.

The guy, with his pants unzipped and his hand inside his trousers, bend down. He squinted his eyes trying to get a better glance of the thing beneath his feet.

"What is this? Did I drink too much that I am imagining things now?" he wondered and scratched his head, "But we can't get drunk..."

Suddenly, the shadowy puddle rustled, and on top of its surface formed a shape of a face. The man froze in his spot. He blinked a few times trying to rehabilitate his eyesight and seconds later he rubbed them with his fingertips.

"Fucking hell...I am definitely drunk," he murmured to himself.

The shadow's face abruptly switched to a sinister smirk. Thus, the man's emotionless face twisted, replacing the features with a feeling of despair, hopelessness, and most of all, fear. His breath hitched inside his throat, getting stuck inside his lungs and leaving his body dry heaving. The guy stumbled a few steps back and tripped on his own foot, falling to the ground.

The man didn't even notice when the shadow crawled under him and he fell unconscious to the ground. A few seconds passed when the guy reopened his eyes. They were completely black.

He loudly growled and heaved from the ground before turning on his heels and walked back to the other man, who was staying guard at the church's doors.

"What took you so long?" snarled the guy, when with a corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the other, leisurely walking forward. 

"What's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?" 

Before he could focus his full attention on the guy, who was almost limping, his throat was harshly pressed between the latter's fingers. He lifted the flabbergasted guard in the air.