The Queen Of Ombres

Chapter 1- Who's the little dog who will die a horrible, painful death?

The keys rattled in my hands as I locked the door. It was darker than I thought, the only light coming from a nearby streetlamp.

I took my phone out and sighed. 22:46. Great. It was probably too late to grab a bite from the coffee shop now.

The store is closed now. Busy day today- well, busy night actually. Hope you recover quickly, Dean. I can't manage the shop in your place forever. I typed the text quickly as I strolled towards the bus stop, hoping that I didn't miss the last bus. Night life didn't really exist here, in Silver Lake City.

Actually, it was quite nice to be out this late at night, with the cool wind ruffling my hair, the silence and complete absence of activity. The only problem was the fog that was slowly rising, making it nearly impossible to see more than three feet ahead.

Well, let's just hope I don't crash against a streetlamp.

The bus stop loomed in front of me soon enough, with its usual billboard suspended above it, advertising a weird looking product as always. I shook my head, taking a seat quietly, dangling my legs.

As I laid my head on the metal post in boredom, my phone let out a shrill sound, snapping me out of my reverie. The name that flashed on the screen made me let out a very unladylike noise as I pressed it to my ear.

"Mom, I'm not dead," I immediately said, skipping the polite 'Hello, my sweet mother'.

I heard a faint huff on the other end and smiled. "So what? A mother cannot worry now?" There was the sound of ruffling, as if she was moving some papers aside, and then she continued. "I told you, that Dean boy is going to be the death of me. You barely know him, and he comes to you as if you were best buddies for life, asking you for this insensible request."

I chuckled softly. Something about hearing your mom say 'best buddies' was quite comical. "I live in the area. Most of my classmates come from Newden or Piers Valley. And I wanted to be kind."

Another huff. "Kind? Nuh-uh. Kind is offering somewhat a biscuit when they are hungry. Asking somewhat to cover his shift at his dad's store just because he is 'sick'-"

"Okay, alright," I cut her off. I was not really in the mood right now to bear the incessant rambling of my mother. All I could think about was my soft, plushy bed in my apartment, just waiting for me.

Well, not that plushy and soft, but it's still a bed.

"I'll call you at my place," I said, waiting for the usual goodbye, which did not come. Frowning, I looked at my phone and sighed yet again. No signal. Why did I decide to move in here, already?

And it was already past 23:00. That bus was not coming anytime soon. I got up, shook my legs to shake off the feeling of coldness from the seat, and went towards the crossroad a few blocks down. It seemed like I would have to walk home, after all.

Home. That was weird to think about my apartment like that. It didn't feel like home, that was a certainty. Sometimes, I still dreamt of my room, in mom's house, with its walls covered in hand prints from when I was five, the marks of crayon on the floor.

Hmmm. Maybe I should try that. I'm sure the landlord will not faint of shock. Or burn my body.

The wind blew with greater force; I had to pull my coat tighter around my body, my teeth chattering a little. It carried all sorts of sounds that were unheard during the day- the leaves bristling, the shutters rattling, the creeks of the branches, a low moan-

Wait, a low moan?

I stopped. The sound was unmistakable now. It was definitely a low moan, and not the type I usually heard at the back of the library in college when I tried to study.