In the dead of night, anything could happen. Sometimes, it was mystical. Maybe even magical. However, more often than not, villainy occurred in the shadows.
It was at this time that a shape slipped from a machine that had been flying a few seconds ago. Now, it was "parked" on the ground, innocently silent.
The shape moved through a dense, grassy meadow. It was void of trees except for the outer edges, which were lined with tall, leafy oaks. The ancient kings of the meadow.
The mysterious figure withdrew a (very big) syringe from his pocket as he approached one particular tree. Unlike all the other red-leafed oaks, this was the only one that was yellow.
He examined the tree a little closer. There. It blended in so well.
Two fang marks punctured the ancient bark.
It was in these holes that he stuck the syringe in and pressed the trigger.
A thick, goopy liquid seeped out of the syringe and into the tree itself. Once the syringe was empty, he stepped back to admire his work. If he squinted, he could see the bark around the site start to wither away.
The figure beamed an evil grin, and stalked away into the night, the shadows quickly swallowing him up.
To be continued…
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