Night returned to the colony, forcing its way through the lands as it entrapped the area in darkness, everyone returned to the safety of their homes and lodging, and already there's a suffocating aura settling amid the darkness.

It was unbearable that the horses became unsettled as their riders tried taming them, but the suffocating aura was evermore present.

Sitting by the window with a look in his angel eyes, Paul overlooked the colony from above, his hearts steadily beating as he waited for the Drekker to come into the colony seeking revenge.

They won't kill the man who killed their own first, they will start with his loved ones, until eventually turning on him.

How the massacre happens would be because the colonists become rattled by the deaths enough to strike against the Drekker, causing their demise, and yet the looming question remains.

Who is the unfortunate soul to survive the massacre that will endow the world the knowledge of the Drekker through legends and tall tales?

"Please, Paul, try to eat something," Taylor urged him as she sat a plate of food down on the table near him.

Ever since they got back to the inn, Paul sat by the window with a despondent look on his face, waiting for a sign that the flock returning to their ancient grounds.

Turning his head towards her, Paul questioned, "They knew what they were, Grace, they allowed their own to be turned into them, why?"

The tribe wasn't afraid of the Drekker, not that Paul saw when he dug out their graves.

Skeletons draped with ceremonial beads, head crowns, the Drekker of yore were celebrate, not feared, and it bothers him.

Sitting down beside him, Taylor gave her thought.

Her emerald eyes overlooking the colony below, she said, "Maybe they didn't see the Drekker as threats, but spirits, protectors. The patriarch had enough of his former life intact that he was following their traditions even after his transformation."

Mulling it over, Paul agreed with her thought as he reached over to take off a biscuit covered in jam and butter from the plate.

Like a horror movie, Paul waited for the scare, the reveal, everything to come out in full-force, but since it turned dark there was nothing but silence.

And for Paul, it was far worse, as he stiltedly chewed on his biscuit while his angel eyes remained hyper-fixated looking out the window.

Hardly anything stirring, just the wind moving the decorative banners, but Paul remained tense as he waited to see the Drekker come into the colony.

He'd forgotten the time hadn't Taylor nudged him and he finally blinked.

"Paul, you can't stay up like this, either," Taylor softly reminds him that he can't stay up to wait for the Drekker, but he insisted that he could, and that he'd be fine.

Shaking her head Taylor gestures as she argues, "You need your sleep, Paul."

He wouldn't be good in the morning without any sleep and he knows the inevitable going to happen, might as well try and get some sleep, so tomorrow they continue their investigation.

Most of all, the TARDIS will give him an earful if he doesn't, might even alert his parents and have them give an earful.

Chewing on his lip, Paul felt conflicted, before he was compelled to move from his spot, moving towards the bed where Taylor sat beside him before helping him out of his clothes.

The moment his back touched the hard bed, Paul exhaled as he felt Taylor's presence beside him.

"We're being toyed with," Paul gave his thoughts.

Only reason they're here, that because of Paul's inquisitive nature, this was a form of punishment for some sort of slight he committed.

Don't really know, honestly, but that's what it felt like for Paul as he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes tempted to move back to the closed curtains.

They were preoccupied when he felt Taylor near him and his arms instinctively pulled her close to him and his mind slowly drifted away as he fell asleep.

Come morning, there was chaos, and as Paul suspected, the farmer who shot the Drekker disappeared from his farmhouse leaving only a bloody spot.

No one heard anything, but that was expected, since the Drekker were capable of incapacitating their prey within seconds.

The farmer didn't stand a chance the moment they came into his home, heard a hiss from behind, that was that.

Taking the body with them, Paul didn't want to think what they had in store for the farmer if he wasn't sick, if he was even dead.

The shock was enough to send the colony on edge as the colonists believed there was a killer in their midst, wild accusations abundant, theories running rampant.

Bedeviled lawmen having ire thrown their way as the colonists demanded answers, but they had none.

Paranoia running rampant, there was nothing Paul or Taylor could do but silently watch as the colonists panicked with some breathlessly wanting to leave the colony outright out of fear of being next.

It took a random shot of musket pointed in the air for the crowd to finally come to their senses and the lawmen informing the colonists that until further notice, they're under curfew.

No one outside after nightfall.

Being that extensive investigations and modern police work wouldn't come into fruition until centuries later, the lawmen didn't have any resources to use other than using their meager numbers to ward off what they thought was a killer lurking in the shadows.

Chaos reigning in the mud streets as lawmen brought order to the colonists before sending them on their way and that was that.

Her arm interlocked with Paul's, Taylor watched the crowd finally dispersing, fleeing to their homes to create ways of defending themselves if the lawmen couldn't protect them from the threat.

Chewing on his lip, Paul privately spoke with her as the lawmen encouraged him and her to take their leave as well.

"They're going to attack again tonight," Paul concludes as he walks with Taylor towards the local eatery where they sat across from each other.

Methodically, the Drekker will come again to take someone else, they will continue doing this until the fabled day the colony goes missing, but something bothered Taylor as she held her cup of tea.

Surely there would have been something that was left behind after the massacre, a piece of paper, a journal, anything that mentioned the horrifying things happening in the colony.

Nothing found, nothing that went through a team of historians, being shown on documentaries, museums, so on.

There was nothing.

Not even colonists sending out letters to their loved ones in other parts of the colonies describing what was going on, either.

It didn't make any sense, but Paul believed there's a reason for it.