STORY: Darklings

AUTHOR: Kellen the Spork Queen

DISCLAIMER: Bain is mine. Taylisha is mine. Hell, everything that goes on in this story is mine. Steal it, and I’ll hurt you. Ok, so I won’t hurt you, but I will stand in your backyard and glare.

FEEDBACK: Please. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.

DISTRIBUTION: If you want it, sure! Just lemme know where it’s headed, k?

DARKLING

In this place, at this hour, most people are locked up in their houses, safe from the horror that unleashes as the sun sets. No one even stays awake in those hours, not risking the chance for one of them to notice that someone is awake. They are the Darklings. They are soulless, dark creatures. They thrive off of human pain, human blood, human suffering. They live off humans.

And in this place, where chaos reins outside, and fear fills the inner quiet of the houses, one man sits awake. He flicks open a silver lighter, and light flickered across his face. He touches the end of the flame to the cigarette held between his teeth, and the end smolders in the darkness.

He sat there, inhaling the thick smoke until the cigarette was gone. Then he rose, going over to the large chest next to the grungy mattress on the floor. He knelt there for several moments, selecting several items from the chest and putting them into the satchel at his waist. He grabbed the largest one in the trunk and held it in his lap. With no warning, his face darkened, and he ripped the curtains off the window, filling the room with moonlight. He shouldered the machine, grinning wickedly. He looked down upon the scene below him, illuminated in the cold light.

The Darklings slunk up and down the blood-soaked streets. Some fought each other, others chased the unfortunate humans that were left outside â€" and alive â€" down the streets and alleyways. Those unlucky enough to be caught would be killed of course. The Darklings would take them, drain out their blood, and with it, their emotion.

The man turned from the window and left, walking purposefully down the darkened, silent staircase. He opened the thick metal door, stepping out into the short metal corridor before stepping out into the night. Instantly, a Darkling leaped at him, but the man pulled the trigger on his weapon, licking his lips as a burst of flame shot out of the muzzle, causing the Darkling to ignite and combust into ashes in a matter of minutes.

He set off, flaming the Darklings as he passed them. The scream of a young girl cut through the night, and he set off towards the sound. In the Town Square, a group of the Darklings had gathered, snarling and growling at a teenaged girl clinging to the bare branches of the tree in the middle of the park. He quietly came up behind them, and turned the flame-thrower on the back row of Darklings. The group turned on him, surrounding the dark- haired man and the tree.

The tallest one, the leader, spoke. “Who the hell are you?â€