Dark quiet night

The darkness was ominous. Haunted. And in the midst of the darkness, all life was quit. The leaves on the trees did not move, the birds did not tweet and the wolves did not howl to the moon. In the midst of the darkness, all life was quiet. But if you listened closely, you could hear steps. The hurried steps of a young boy fleeing. His deep breaths forming clouds in the cold night. His tears freezing on his pink cheeks. And if you listed even more closely, you could hear what he was fleeing from: shadowhounds. Massive wolves, with teeth as big as knives and a coat as dark as the night itself. And they were coming for him. It didn't take long for them to catch up. You could hear the screams and cries of the young boy breaking through the silence, as the hounds bit into his legs and dragged him away. You could hear his pleas to his mother and father, to his God, as they savaged him. But all went unanswered. Salvation didn't come for everyone. And in the midst of the darkness, all life was quiet again.