The moon towered over the city of Versone, filtering light over the softly rolling hills. Streetlamps were lit brightly against the dark night, creating small moons of electric light on the sidewalk. They overlapped slightly and spilled onto the nearby buildings, lighting the night just enough to dispel any fear. Thick tendrils of fog rolled over the ground, shrouding everything more than twenty feet away. The night was silent, even the night birds having gone to sleep. Only the soft playing of a music box disturbed the quiet as a solitary figure walked calmly down the street.

Myrna found herself staring intently at the full moon, transversing the sidewalk from memory. She wondered why she didn’t take more opportunities to walk around; she loved the cool, brisk air and the feeling of damp fog playing around her ankles. She stopped to look around warily, sensing someone nearby. Noting the music slowly fading from the air Myrna disregarded her feeling, continuing on with her journey. She could have sworn she heard footsteps behind her.

“Your just imagining things…. No one else would be out at this time of night. No one but me.” She whispered, trying to calm herself. Determined to end her anxiety, she turned to face the empty street.

A shadow flickered quickly in the rising fog. It had hidden by the time she turned but someone -- or something -- was indeed following her.

Myrna spun once more, her heart racing. She urged herself on, toward her house and the security it brought. Passing a large garden she paused, compelled to look within. The moonlight toyed with the leaves and beautiful shades night flowers. The day flowers were tightly shut, pointing every which way, anticipating the first source of light. The fog opened briefly, flowing with the wind. Beyond the fog was a figure, hunched over something silently. It’s head turned, peering straight at Myrna. A sadistic smile warped the face as it glared at her, sending her heart pounding. The figure’s eyes seemed to glow red in the darkness.

The fog closed once more, shrouding the figure and when it opened seconds later the mysterious creature was gone. Whether or not that was the figure previously following Myrna her heart beat heavily in her chest. She stepped forward, grasping the cold metal of a gate to encourage herself. The glowing eyes, she was sure, was just her imagination gone wild. She was determined to face this person, this creature, despite – or because of – her fear.

“Please,” she said as firmly as she could, though her voice wavered against her will. “Please, sir, I know you’re there. Please come where I can see you. Who are you?” She did not let herself continue with her next question, What are you? Continuing to where she saw the figure crouch she sighed. Nothing was there.

Suddenly the snap of a twig caught her attention, making her spin, gasping. Still nothing appeared. A soft chuckle by her left ear once again had her dancing away in fear, though she had no idea how someone moved so fast around her. With a deep, unexplainable dread, she realized the music box’s soft tune had finally died out, leaving her in the empty silence of the night. Once more she tried to spot the mysterious figure, catching only glimpses of shadows in the fog.

The sensation of being toyed with grasped her as she shivered in the cold. She could feel herself almost crying in frustration, or was it fear? At the very moment she was sure she would go mad if toyed with any further the fog cleared, as if commanded. The outline of a man became visible, and a thickly accented voice floated softly over the air. “Good evenin’, Myrna.”

“Listen, don’t make a sound.” Another figure hastily whispered, putting a finger to his lips as he emerged from the fog, his golden green eyes gleaming with amusement.

The man with the accent, a fedora pulled down over his eyes, moved toward her. His long, graceful steps resembled the strut of a tom-cat. He softly lifted Myrna’s chin to look at him with his long, slender fingers. Pulling in close, his other hand tipped his hat. “Vat are you doing ‘ere?” He asked, his voice silky under his harsh German accent.

The German’s companion, the golden eyed man reappeared next to Myrna. “The music stopped, the time is close!” Without a pause fog rolled over the man and he was gone.

Myrna shook her head to clear it, certain she was dreaming. Despite her confusion, Myrna found it in herself to pull away and reaffirm the dignity in her stance. She replied quickly and defensively, her voice soft but firm. “I have as much right to walk the streets at any time I please as anyone else. You ask what I am doing here, as if you own this place, and question me for coming!” The man flicked his hat up, apparently amused by her outburst. His eyes sparkled in the light, the delicate blue melding seamlessly into the white. “You’ll find you have no such power over me!” The man laughed lightly, shaking his head ever so slightly. His amusement infuriated Myrna all the more. “What do you want?” she demanded, “What do you want from me?!”

Without warning a hand slipped over her mouth, the blue eyed man had stepped close once more, pinning his hand to her. “Nothing.” He answered curtly, smiling. “I vant nothing from you.” With a moan of dismay Myrna realized a cloth was in his hand and she suddenly felt lightheaded. Within seconds she was unconscious.