Author's Note: Happy Halloween! I'm trying to get into the habit of waiting until I'm at least a full chapter ahead in my writing before posting, but since this story is both partially inspired by a Halloween film and will feature some spooky moments, I wanted to at least get the beginning up in time for the holiday. This was not originally the multichapter Lukemara fic I intended to write first, but the idea has been knocking around in my head since this past summer, and I figured now was the perfect time to start developing it into an actual story.
I apologize for how short this introduction is, but I do have most of the first chapter written already and I hope I can get ahead far enough to my liking to post it fairly soon. I'm going to be quite busy in the next couple of months, but like most unexpected creative ideas, this has taken a hold of me and is now demanding to be brought to life in full, so I'm hoping to stick with it for however long it takes to complete it.
Hope you enjoy!
DOWN COMES THE NIGHT
"That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die."
-H.P. Lovecraft, "The Nameless City"
PROLOGUE
He sees stars prickle across his vision as the breath dies in his lungs. He can feel his throat constricting in the crushing grip of an invisible fist, his fingers instinctively clawing at unseen hands. The air hums with the feverish buzz of electricity, and even as the light fades from his eyes, he catches a glimpse of ice-blue sparks flickering at the edges of her fingertips.
The unearthly voice roars in his ears, thundering through his skull and obliterating the chorus of shrieks crying out to him.
"She's MINE!"
His will screams out in protest, but despite his every effort to fight back, he begins to slip beyond the veil of consciousness into a sea of starless night. The space surrounding him grows colder than it has ever been - colder now than the snow-swept tundra of Hoth, colder than the frostbitten crystal caves of Ilum. Colder even than the yawning abyss of death.
His lips mouth her name although his voice can barely crawl its way past the unseeable noose tightening around his neck. But she does not respond, if there is even anything left of her to respond. Her soul has been devoured by the ravenous beast inside of her, that carnivorous remnant of a shadow still clinging to a life that is not, and never has been its own.
He feels an invisible blow barrel into him like a punch to the gut, and his body hurtles backward. The frigid air whines as it whizzes past him, a thousand tiny vibroblades slicing through his skin. He slams against what feels like a hard surface, before slumping to the ground in a crumpled, gasping heap. His bones screech with the wild terror of white-hot pain.
An ink-veined visage looms above him, its teeth grinning and bared for the kill. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear his sister howling his name.
The last thing he sees are two black eyes advancing on him as he lies helpless before the encroaching darkness. Two black eyes, boring into his soul with the promise of everything but the mercy he no longer has the strength to beg for. Two black eyes gleaming, hungry for his demise.
Gleaming from beyond a curtain of red-gold hair.
