Well, that took forever...and I could probably name a hundred of the reasons as to why it took so long, but i'll spare you readers, and let you all know that i'll hopefully (HOPEFULLY) be falling back into a regular updating routine now...hopefully...please enjoy~! Oh! And a happy late Valentine's Day, I hope it was spent well ; )

Chapter 31. Normal POV.

It was well into midnight when they came. In a deep sleep the people in the tents lay blissfully undisturbed. It started in whispers. Shadows, from the trees, stretching and clinging, like black sap, moving within the darkness. The only sound they made were soft wisps of wind, nearly unnoticeable. They crawled lithely, black, gangly limbs brushing over the earth, breathing words of a different world to each other, searching from the outskirts of the forest.

They stalked together, in groups of two or three, creating ice-cold drafts wherever they travelled.

That was what awoke Roderick. He never had been a deep sleeper, or one to prefer the cold, and he opened his eyes with distaste and annoyance. But his vision was blurry. Like he was on the edge of dream and reality. He tried to reach his arms up to rub them, but as a cool wind blew by, almost unnaturally slowly, he found he couldn't. In a slight panic, he tried again, then his feet, then his head. But they were heavy, and strangely tired, and he found his mind was the same. So he lay there, helpless, with a weight tugging him down, a fear in the back of his mind of what might've been happening.

Then, the others began to wake up as well, with the same deep weighty slumber on them. Their eyes were unclear and drooping, and their arms and legs were too heavy to move. Terror and question gripped them, as they fought to stay conscious, urging themselves to get up.

Then, they began to hear.

The slow, individual, movements and voices of the shadows manoeuvred around their tents, searching. They started entering. Gusts of ice-like wind, blowing the tent flaps back, easing into the make-shift sleeping chambers with languid motions, looking at every little detail, soaking and absorbing the warmth. But they left quickly, if nothing of their interest or goal was found. All that was left was a numb cold on the half-awake inhabitants.

But they stopped at Ikuto's tent. It was considerably larger, and perhaps more well cushioned and comfortable. Inside-when they had entered like they did tents before-it was obvious he was an object of importance, with more luxurious bedding, tangled around his sleeping, immobile self, and messily strew clothing with an expensive look to them.

The shadows looked at each other, and smiled. If shadows could smile, that is, and waited. They didn't have to wait very long. Not that the shadows were impatient creatures, they were. They waited decades to be released; they could wait longer if they had to. But what they were waiting for was impatient. And hungry.

She crawled to the clearing, long spider-limbs carrying herself quickly. She was followed by a small handful of more shadows, though these seemed slightly larger, and more tense.

At her arrival, the flurry of blackness went wild, trickling to her feet, begging her to let them show her what they've found. And, in an indescribable way, the thin, icy fog that seemed to surround her, her very presence and being seemed amused.

She followed them, with a slow speed, and stopped, suddenly, at the door of Ikuto's tent. Her long neck leaned forward, and her back bent down, as if to inspect the tent. But she only stayed like that for a brief second, before ripping open the tent door, tossing it savagely to the ground, and went in.

Her being seemed pleased now, seeing the blue-haired thief lying tensely in the sheets, as though he would shiver, but was to tired to do so. Ikuto was tired. He couldn't will himself to move, he felt to stiff. He could sense her, though, as another spine-tingling chill ran down his body, and in a small panic, he felt his eyes open. If only a sliver.

What he saw, from the struggling blurs of his vision, was not something anybody would want to wake up to. At first, he had though he might've been blind, because all he saw was a pitch black darkness in front of him, and he felt his heart flutter in fear. Then, as his eyes adjusted, he found he could almost see through the shadow.

He could see the walls of the tent, wobbling slightly in the cold air, and wisps of movement outside of them. He strained to lift his arm up, to move and slip away from the shadows, but couldn't.

Do not move.

He felt a wave of icy air pass over him, and his fingertips tingled, numbingly. The voice that had spoken was that of a young women who had seen to many dark things in her time. It bit at him harder than the breeze had, and he let out a small breath, seeing the air before him fog.

Sleep, and this will be over soon enough. It came again, and he found that he was hearing it in his mind, rather than through his ears. It might've been a pleasant enough voice, he thought, if it wasn't so cold, and he might've obliged, and lay still, if it wasn't for the tone she had used when she said 'over soon enough'.

It was full of hunger, and giddy excitement, something that unnerved him to no end. He tried to move his arm again, and the voice hissed.

Behave, young Calothstine. It sounded like a threat. Ikuto clenched his teeth (and was glad of the fact that he could move his jaw), and formed a fist with one of his hands. Though he wasn't sure if disobeying the creature was a good idea, nor how a clenched fist would help him if he couldn't even move the rest of his body, he felt the strangest surge of pride that he had overcome her, if only a little. The pride was short-lived.

The shadow, before him, moved. It crouched down, with painfully slow movement, spider-y limbs folding down beneath her, and she moved so her face was level with his. Her face was black, completely spotless, with no dimension, and barely a solid structure, but, as though she was doing this for the first time in many ages, her eyes opened.

It started out like slits, and a dull, yellow, light peaked in through the dark. But they widened, gradually, until both eyes opened fully, revealing large, almond shapes. She had no pupil, nor iris. It was just a solid light.

She smiled.

The shadows of her face rippled back, like clay drying and peeling off. The same light as her eyes shone through her black teeth, which were more like strings of sap than anything.

Ikuto felt his breath catch, when she reach up with one of her impossible long arms, and dragged her hand over his head, petting him as though a mother would to pacify a child.

Such a pretty thing. Such a shame. She cooed, her finger travelling in between his hair. Ikuto shivered, and the creature's cheshire smile widened, taking up half of her face, smugly.

So pretty, so pretty. Sleep now, and restrain yourself no more.

He struggled with her words, and fought to keep his eyes open, but just as the words left her mouth, he felt them closing on their own accord, leaving nothing but the darkness surrounding him.

Nothing but the darkness, and the wide smile of his captor.