"Aaron!"
Katy's wail pierced the still, hush of the night. I could hear the wind rushing to her aid, rustling tree leaves and howling dryly at the moon. I stumbled down the hallway towards our bedroom, where the cries echoed from. No matter how far I went, the bedroom door always seemed inches from my grasp.
"Aaron!" She shrieked.
I held on to the wall for support, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other. The whole world was spinning, and each one of her howls was like a blow to my side, threatening to knock me over. I finally reached the door to our bedroom, and a bitter, ruthless blast of wind rushed to greet me. The glass door to our balcony was slid open, and I saw Katy's soft blue eyes gazing at me from outside. Gusts of wind made the trail of her white dress dance, and her pale skin contrasted the blackness around her.
She was standing on the railing of the balcony – I tried to plead with her to come down, but my throat was dry, and my fear paralyzed me. Before I could say anything she plummeted over the edge, like a falling star in the night sky.
I woke up screaming, covered in sweat. I instinctively reached over to Katy's side of the bed, but my hand clutched emptiness.
Just a dream, I told myself.
I tried to go back to bed, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I'd been having this dream every night for 2 years now, and it always kept me awake.
Katy's death was different than the dreams I kept having. I was asleep when she died - I went to bed curled up next to her and in the morning she was gone. That morning I saw that our sliding glass door was shattered and immediately called the cops.
Hours after the police arrived they told me that they'd found fingernail scratches all the way from the bed to the balcony, and that Katy's fingernails were damaged. They said that someone must have dragged her to the balcony and thrown her over. They questioned me, apologized for my loss, told me they'd be "on the case," and then left.
The next couple months were a depressing blur. I ate almost nothing, got little to no sleep, and only left the house when absolutely necessary. I was told to see a therapist, who gave me paid leave from work. My family called to check on me often, but all they got from my end of the call were sighs and murmurs.
Then I had the encounter with yellow eyes.
One night I woke up and realized something was horribly wrong. A strong, bitter smell attacked my nostrils. I opened my eyes groggily – was that smell sulfur? I reached over to turn my lamp on but it wouldn't work. I started to climb out of bed and I saw him - a dark figure by the balcony door. I squinted to try and see his face through the veil of darkness in the room but I couldn't make out any features.
Then he opened his eyes - they were a rotten gold color. I saw him grin horridly.
Was this the man that had killed Katy? I tried to get out of bed, but an invisible force shot me back against the wall.
"Are you the one who killed Katy?" I yelled at him.
He just laughed - it shook the entire house. Then the darkness swallowed him up and he was gone. I dropped onto my bed and again the house was silent, except for my heavy panting and choked-out sobbing.
Over the next two years I chased him. I learned about everything - demons, monsters - you couldn't even imagine how many of them there were. I became what's known as a "hunter" - I hunted these things for a living. And I was good at it. Amazing actually. And while I could've put my abilities to better use, my only goal was avenging Katy.
I swear I will avenge Katy.