---

The sky slowly darkened as the rain fell on the stony floor of the earth. The light breeze of the young night quenched a thirst for a storm. The rustles of the trees were left to be heard under the very existence of sound, reverberating on through the street. A few steps broke the solemnity of darkness; a shadow appeared before the sole lamppost of the street.

The shadow slowly glided ‘til it reached the door to its home, to its abyss. A shrill creak of the door breached the silence, but before a soul winked, the shadow disappeared behind the closed door.

Following the walls of the house, the shadow entered the kitchen stenched with indistinct odors. A pair of hands escaped the folds of the cape rested upon the shoulders of the shadow. It grasped the kitchen table, looking for something… fingers tracing the edge of each tile.

Finally it seized the blade of burning desire… a knife. The sharp edge illuminating the faceless entity of nothingness. Its fingers traced slowly the beautiful blade, sharp as a samurai’s death card. The cold metal stung the cold skin, searching for the flesh underneath. With a swift slash, liquid oozed from the cut. Warm, crimson blood dropped on the kitchen floor, outlining the edge of the tiles.

Searing heat scattered over the wound…

Arms unable to move…

Blood dripped on…

Drained from the crimson…

---