A Lovely Death - Prologue

by ~Animegirl300

It was a cold night that night. The rain was falling alarmingly fast, and a violent wind caused entire houses to creek and groan. The sky was a pitch black and to the inhabitants of the small village, it seemed to float closer to the ground as though a great blanket was pulled over their heads, only separated by the tops of the houses and trees.
You would have to be a real fool to go out into this weather.

In the top story window of one of the small townhouses of the village a light flickered on, its glow casting an orange dot from behind thick curtains. The curtain was pulled back as an old man came to stare outside into the darkness. The old man shook his head and turned away from the window.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I would hate to be stuck outside at a time like this."
The wind blew violently against the walls of the man's home, and they creaked against the pressure as they tried to fight the oncoming force.
He went to his bedside, setting a lone candle down on the bedside table. He sat on the bed listening to the raging weather outside. He could almost feel the living wind cutting and hammering away at his home.
He shivered slightly before, with shaking knobby knees, pushed him self up, grabbing his candle, and shuffling to the door and down the creaky steps.
He put a kettle on the black stove of his kitchen and sat down on a chair.
Somehow he could not shake a feeling of… anxiety.
He told himself it was just the storm. After all, what in the world could happen to an old man: he had a simple life, and not very many enemies? He was sure he would be okay.
And it was just as he had calmed himself down that he heard it.
Thud! Thud! thud!
He jumped up at the noise, and his breath quickened as he stared down to his front door.
Someone was there.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
There it was again…
He was frozen: who in the world would be coming to call at almost three in the morning and in weather like this.
Not anyone with sense at least.
But he couldn't just leave someone outside like that… what if it was a poor soul looking for a place to stay.
At the thought he shuffled to his door, dragging on a heavy cloak, and unbolted the lock.
And he opened the door.
Nothing…
The wind crashed against him and he shoved the door closed again.
Maybe it was his imagination.
Or maybe he had just doomed himself.
For he was unaware the something was now in the room with him…

'What a quaint little hut' the creature thought sarcastically. His blood red eyes scanned the room from where he was leaning, arms crossed, against the corner.
The pictures on the walls and tables told him that this old man was a poor old widower. He had children, but judging by the state of his home he was a loner these days.
"Just another worthless life" The creature muttered his fanged teeth shown from behind a tan muzzle. A flash of lightning revealed his features: he had dark black fur, with stripes of red going down his arms and legs, his face contorted in a deep frown, his needle nose pointing out of his emotionless face. He was a hedgehog. But he was more than just a hedgehog…
With a sudden movement of a gloved hand came something from the old horror stories that parents would tell children for their fearful amusement: a large shining scythe: the weapon of Death!
There was a flash of lighting and the candle went out as a great wind came attacking the old man where he stood at the entrance of the kitchen.
"What the-…."
Thinking he had left the door open, he turned around just in time to see a flash of silver… and then…
Nothing…
The hedgehog looked down at the old man's lifeless body for a moment, and then turned back as he headed for the door. His job was done for the night. He would now go back and wait… for his next job… for his next victim… another victim… of Death.