When Darkness Falls

One.

He had been following her for almost a year now. For months he had watched until he was certain, and then kept watching. He was not like the others, rushing in with a display of power. He was quiet, lurking in shadows and never imposing. The habit had fostered hundreds of rumors about him over the years-- many of which suggested he was an angel of death sent to collect the souls of the dearly departed. People liked to offer explanations for things they did not understand, even when they could not be farther from the truth.

Through forests of glass and concrete clustered along the banks of a river alive with the angry sound of traffic, the ancient had followed, always hovering at a distance. He remained shrouded, never drawing attention to himself. Power as old as time could not hide for long though. He could not remain aloof forever; the cosmic balance demanded to be righted. He whose job it was to keep order had brought as much chaos as could be permitted. He could wait no longer.

He drew near as the autumn breeze encircled the young woman. Her hurried walk and eyes trained on the ground betrayed the humility that had first caught the ancient's attention. Her hazel eyes narrowing against the rush of the wind subtly revealed her fighting spirit. Such minor details would have escaped the eyes of an ordinary observer, but not his. Their spirits were kindred-- alike to an alarming degree. She had been perfectly molded by circumstance to become what he needed her to be now. Through her, the balance would be restored.

Isabelle shuddered.

The cold had followed her home. It had gone past nipping at her fingers and toes. It had found its way in, chilling her from the inside now too. It made no difference whether she walked in the sun or the shadows. Wherever she went the frosty feeling was unshakable. Reaching up, she rubbed the end of her slender nose. It was always the first appendage to feel icy. Her efforts had little effect. She concentrated on walking faster to reach the warmth of blankets and chocolate drinks as soon as she could; her apartment was only a block away now.

By the time her feet hit the welcome mat she was short of breath—both from the temperature and her exerting pace. She leaned against the door as she pulled off her shoes, waiting for the warmth of the small apartment to defrost her limbs. She slid out of her coat with a shiver and scurried past the couch, grabbing a blanket off the arm in passing.

No time was to be wasted in heating up water and taking out hot cocoa mix. While she waited for the kettle to boil she searched for more warm snacks. Her sweet tooth seemed to steer her thoughts toward the half eaten box of toaster strudels waiting in the freezer. She snatched the box from the fridge as she tried to limit her exposure to more cold air. With the pastry warming in the toaster she pulled out a butter knife from the kitchen drawer. The cool metal pressed against her palm did nothing to warm her. She was growing impatient for warmth and wiggled her toes in attempt to generate heat.

The ancient chose his moment, moving past the intimate proximity he had held for months now. The lines that divided their similar souls began to blur.

Pain sliced through Isabelle's head. She reached up as a strangled cry tore from her throat. It was as if an icicle had been stabbed into the center of her brain. The pain was blinding as flashes of white seared across her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, doubling over in pain. What was happening?

Her head was pulsating, vibrating with agony. Her ears were filled with the sound of roaring wind. Fighting to open her eyes again she stumbled backward in disbelief. Glancing down she saw the bones in her wrist as if she was looking at an x-ray. Another flash of white light.