Bella Luna

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The night breeze washed over the land in the dimly lit little town. Shops closed for the night, stray wandering folks went home where it was warm. All was quiet, save for the struggle in a lost alley.

A balding, middle aged man had a child no older than six years old by the throat. His intentions clear that he means no good towards this youth. This made clear as he pulled out a blade from his back pocket and flicked it open to cut the child's clothes off.

"Hold still ya little brat!" he scowled when the little boy broke free from his grasp.

"I want my momma!" he bawled as the man tore his shirt to shreds.

"You'll get your momma, now hold still!" he went to cut the boys pants when he heard movement from behind the entrance of the alley.

Turning, he held the blade out in case he needed it for defense against an attacker. Frantically, his eyes darted from left to right as he stood at the entrance, the child tightly grasped by the arm.

The child screams in terror as the blade cuts through his frail skin, the clothing almost removed when another sound halted him, "oh for the love of-!"

He froze when he looked up to the entrance and saw a tall figure standing there. Clearly female from the lithe body adorned in what appeared to be a dress. The light of the moon prevents the two from getting any real detail on this person.

"Lady, I would scat if I were you, unless you want to get hurt." He sneered as his fist grasped a tighter grip on the blade in his hand.

She merely stood there, silent and mysterious.

"Alright, you're asking for it!" Rearing his hand back, he threw the knife at her, aimed for her head.

Smirking as he waited for it to connect, his eyes widened in surprise when she vanished. The blade went cascading off and slid across the ground.

"Shit! Where'd she-?! How'd she-?! Fuck this! I'm getting out of here!" He bolt for the exit, freedom seemingly within his grasp.

His foot connected with the familiar pavement of the old, concrete sidewalk when something wrapped around his ankle, halting him, and tripping him.

Looking down, he saw it was an inky black tentacle. Its lead passed the boy who had himself pressed tightly to the wall, hoping to avoid getting in the middle of whatever was going on. Too afraid to move or make any noise whatsoever.

The limb pulled him back into the alley and a light at the end flickered on, revealing his assailant.

She was almost nine feet tall, her skin as pale as the moon. Her arms reached almost to the ground, another three or so feet, and they would. She wore a deep, red dress decorated with black frill and bows near the bottom by the knees. Her arms were covered by white sleeves not attached to the dress that had a red ribbon stitched along the top and bottom on her arms. Long, black hair flowed down her back, reaching just a bit longer than her arms.

Her face.

She didn't have one.

It was the most terrifying thing the man had ever seen. This woman without a face, sent chills down her spine.

Out of the corner of his eye, he discovered that the tentacle was leading to her. It was hers and it was pulling him towards her.

Fear shot through him with vigor and he tried to pull himself away. Clawing at the cracked concrete, he pulled himself a far bit of way only to be yanked back. A scream pierced the air as some of his nails were ripped off at the sudden force. Droplets of blood sprinkled the ground as a few pieces of nail lay scattered.

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