It wasn’t the darkest of nights, nor the coldest. But something about the atmosphere that night chilled you to your very heart. Light misty rain drifted down to shroud the city in eerie grayness and the silence that came with it was almost sinister.

Throughout the city men in gray cloaks emerged from the fog and diverged, sliding through suddenly open doors. The inhabitants within dropped without screams, falling into oblivion, whether in death or unconsciousness it did not matter. The very lifeblood of the city had been stilled.

In a part of the city where the soldiers had not yet reached, ran a family of four. Their furtive glances at the houses around showed that they were not ignorant of the present invasion. Of the four only one was on the verge of panic, a deathly calm had over taken the others, the girl was hunched, a shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders and mist dewing her hair like tiny crystals.

Her eyes were wide, lips white and she wrung her hands like an old widow. As their feet pattered along the road, she strayed slightly, gazing backward with terror. When a cry came through the mist, and was abruptly cut short, her head snapped around and she froze like a frightened rabbit. It wasn’t till her young brother, an innocent looking boy of about 10, tugged desperately on her arm that she moved, running down the street, her parents falling in behind them.

They stumbled to a stop at a corner when they heard another yell ahead of them. Looking frantically about them, they ducked into a wide alley and raced down it, hoping for an escape. Luck failed them and a brick wall rose out of the twilight.

Chests rising and falling with fluttering heartbeats they turned. The young girl would never forget that next sight. It was as if the mist condensed and released gray figures from its midst, the figures walked with silent relentless steps and for a moment she entertained the thought of ghosts but dismissed it quickly, if they were ghosts then it was even worse. At least soldiers could be killed.

Her father turned and looked despondently at the family he had led to disaster. “I’m sorry. I love you. Forgive me.” And he turned and gave a choked war cry that cut like a knife through the twilight, then charged at the first soldier with his belt knife held before him like a broadsword.

It was a brave effort and no doubt he was a hero, but the reason why heroes are remembered and told about over the fire is because they die.

And so he did.

An agonized cry burst from her mother’s throat. The shadows looked up from her father with low hisses and began to advance again. The girl wrapped her arms around her sobbing brother and buried her face in his damp hair. Their mother leapt up and leapt at the shadows, ripping and clawing at their faces. The girl turned away as her mother fell.

“No no no no no … NO!” her brother screamed his red rimmed eyes rolling, the girl grabbed at his clothes, trying to pull him back, away, trying to protect him. But he got away. And so she lost the last of her family members.

Seeing her brother’s limp body on the ground was too much. She screamed in pain and threw herself over her brother, wrapping her arms around his unresponsive torso. Blood seeped through his clothes onto her but she ignored it. Letting tears run freely and cursing the shadow men in every way she could.

It seemed like hours, though it was probably seconds, till rough hands wrenched her away from her brother. Her fighting instinct lasted barely a second before she collapsed letting them drag her away from the alley, away from her dead family, away from her innocence.

Away.