Beware a Midnight's Stroll
The clicking of footsteps echoed throughout the deserted misty streets as civilians have already decided to call in early as it was close to that haunting date which people feared most, Halloween or in most cases, Witch’s Night. A few patrolling officers wandered around the alleys and street paths holding up an oil lantern to fight off the misty darkness for they may see what was in front of them and avoid meeting unwanted company.
The clicking grew louder and louder as the person came closer. Almost like an invisible hand departing the curtains, the mist broke away revealing a lone young woman.
The woman looked no older than twenty, her dark jet black hair that styled with the popular flowing curls contrasted against her natural milky white skin. Her face half hidden underneath her black hat that had a single red feather tucked into the black ribbon that was tied around the hat. She wore a black cloak that was wrapped securely around her voluptuous form to block out the cold autumn air though a gust of wind blew against her causing the cloak to blow apart revealing the black Victorian dress she was wearing. The corset was edged with white lace and tied crisscross down the middle with thin white string, her cloak fell back down around her as the wind faded away.
The woman seemed unconcerned by what the shadows may hold as she continued walking. Her head tilted slightly downward for her hat may cover her face from possible walkers who were brave enough to walk the empty streets on this October night.
Many stores, banks, and homes were closed and dark inside. Shutters were shut, doors were bolted and locked, and some houses that had fences were shut as well though if you looked closely you would see a small cross dangling from the metal gate. The woman passed them all without a single glance though under her breath, almost inaudible, she hummed. The tune was low and held a haunting quality that matched perfectly with the setting around her. Her melodic voice carried out eerily as though her voice were the winds itself.
An officer wearing the customary black Scotland Yard uniform with a badge pinned to his left breast stepped out of the alley he had just finished patrolling. He held the lantern in front of him as his dark muddy brown eyes scanned the area for any possible law breakers. He shivered as the cold mist caressed his cheek like a lover’s touch, though it wasn’t a lover the man would even relish the touch of. Shuttering a bit the man squared his shoulders prepared to continue onto the next alley when his ears perked up at the sound of female’s heel clicking against the pavement. His eyes traveled up the path of the road to see a shadow through the mist, the man squint his eyes and brows furrowed together as he tried to figure out if his mind was playing tricks on him. It wouldn’t be a surprise since he kept hearing so many rumored tales from the other officers about horrendous creatures that stalked the street during the month of October close to the Witch’s Hour.
Shaking those thoughts away, he stood his ground and continued staring at the shadow, curious if it would disappear with the mist or take a physical form. The mist finally thinned out and he saw that the shadow was actually a woman. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and relaxed.
Just a civilian he thought to himself and couldn’t resist letting out a small chuckle at his silly paranoia.
Lifting the lantern he began walking toward the woman ready to ask if he could escort her home as it was not safe for a female to be walking alone on a night like this especially after the Jack “The Ripper” case. The case may have gone cold with the lack of proper evidence that connected to any suspects but it didn’t mean the maniac wasn’t still around, just waiting to take out his next poor defenseless victim. As he came closer he caught the low sound of humming and for some reason his body began to feel numb. His pace began to slow down and his eyes glazed over, his lids went half-mast.
The clicking seemed to crescendo and bounce around in his head as he watched the woman come closer. Just then the woman’s red painted lips began to move, forming words that he could hear clearly even though she was still a good distance away from him.
“Night of fright,
a night to begin
to feed upon
all of those who have sinned.
Your blood has gone black,
blacker than the sky,
soon your skin
will be paler than mine.
Don’t be afraid,
just listen to my voice
as I entrance you from running away,
as I make your choice.”
The woman was now only two feet away and the man had stopped walking long ago lost in the sound of the woman’s melodic haunting voice, the wind blew gently making the end of her cloak billow gently behind her.
“Night of fright,
a night to begin
to feed upon
those who have sinned.
Your blood blacker
than the sky,”
The woman stopped in front of him and tilted her head as she paused she lifted up a black lace gloved hand and gently brushed her knuckles against his cheek then turned her hand to let her fingers trace down his jaw line. He released a shuttering breath through the slight gap between his lips; his eyes stared at the hat where her eyes would be hiding behind. The woman’s dainty finger stopped right on his chin and she raised her head. Brown eyes met transparent glowing red eyes.
“Will you be mine on this beautiful haunting night?”
The woman’s red lips stretched across her face and parted revealing glinting white sharp fangs.
The oil lamp crashed onto the pavement and the flame was instantly put out, plunging the street in complete darkness.