The day had just turned to night, sun dipping low behind the horizon with the moon glowing in the sky. It was around 6pm and that time of year where you'll hear someone give a comment or two about the loss of daylight so early. It might go something like this:

"It's only six o'clock, Harvey! Look how dark it is."

"I know, it is almost unbelievable. It happens so quick."

"I don't want our Katie out in this, it's not safe."

"Don't you worry Debbie, she'll be fine…now what's for tea? I'm starving."

"Your favourite, my love, a steak with Yorkshires!"

A conversation you'll hear at least once a year, as though the clocks never go back annually. The British public were odd.

But besides that, the city of Cardiff was dark. Yet, not completely dead. Orange lampposts lighting up corners and the flashing of headlights from moving cars. An apartment building has windows light up or switch off in some sort of unintentional and unprepared morse code.

In far left room of the fifth floor a silhouette was cast on a pastel curtain, room lit brightly.

Eryn stared at herself in the mirror. There was something wrong. It wasn't her frizzy, ginger hair, nor was it the giant zit that had sprung up on her button nose. Her teeth were clean and eyebrows plucked. Her freckles dotted along her cheeks looked the same. Even the sharp bone of her jaw nothing wrong with it.

She supposed it was the out-of-place rash on her cheekbones. A vivid, a cherry-red with little pimples. It had been pink when it first arose, but that had been months ago, going on eight in total. Yes, she had seen a doctor and yes she had been applying the prescribed cream. But nothing had really worked.

It was ugly. Ruined the perfectly pale complexion she had grown to love. It clashed with her auburn hair. Make-up did nothing to hide the pink patch. And the itching drove her made. Eryn had managed to break a nail while itching it. It had pissed her off, the acrylic nails all having to be thrown away. An utter waste.

The skin of her cheek had been cut too, just adding to her misfortune. The trickle of blood had washed away the expensive foundation she decided to wear that day. Eryn had to detore to the bathroom, stem the bleeding snd reapply her make-up. This had left her being five minutes late to her lunch date.

So now as Eryn glared at the rash with full force, she dabbed at it with the foundation-covered beauty blender. It gave a mild irritation as the sponge pushed down on the raised bumps. But she didn't care. Eryn needed to get ready, for tonight she was going to out. She wore a tight mini-shirt, a sequinned and silver lowcut, loose top. Her heels were exceptionally high.

Now all she had to do was finish painting her face.

However the dirtiest sponge fell from her grip as a sharp sting ran through her head. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, breathing through it. She put it down to a headache, grumbling to herself but determined to go out nightclubbing. She'd take some painkillers before she goes. And as Eryn grabbed the dropped blender, a ringing sounded in her ears and she fell forward, clutching at the counter in front. A pounding covered her whole head. No, not her head, her brain.

Eryn's skull didn't hurt, it was her brain.

She pushed down on her head, hoping to alleviate the pain but it did nothing. The pain only growing in intensity. Her head felt heavy and Eryn swore she felt something move against the organ in her skull.

"Shit- fuck."

Eryn looked up at her reflection. Make-up half applied and nowhere near ready to go out. The pain stopped. Perhaps it was a migraine? A killer one at that. She reached for the beauty blender again, taking a breather and closing her eyes. "It's just a headache Eryn. Nothing to stop you going out. You need to go out tonight."

The woman took another brush from her kit, handle shaped like a uniforn horn with a sharp end. She'd just dabbed it in some blusher when a voice floated into her ear. Eryn spun around. Nothing but her empty bathroom with a closed door. The voice spoke again.

"Do it." It said. She flung open the door. Brush still in hand. What if it was a murderer? It was hardly any protection. The short hall was dark. Eryn slammed her hand to the wall, searching for the light switch. The light blinded her briefly.

"Who's there?"

But she couldn't see anyone.

"Do it!"

She whirled around again, swearing. She thought they were behind her. But it was just the same old empty bath.

'I-i said, who is there? If it's you Huw, I'll- I'll throw out your Star Wars collection!"

"Do it! Do it! Do it !"

A strangled scream tore from Eryn's throat and suddenly the block lit up like a Christmas tree.