The records were at the same time ominous and vague. Not much information on a certain Kyle Randall could be found, but the missing data seemed like it should have been there, obvious things like date of death and home address. His dependents were also not listed.
To Brann, it seemed like someone had removed them.
Brann had always been labeled as “overly suspicious” by the group, and his excessive snooping got them into trouble occasionally, but he couldn't help it – he was just a curious guy by nature.
That, and he always wanted to be a detective.
But that was irrelevant right now. The library would be closing soon and he had to document his findings somehow before he got kicked out. He whipped out his cell phone, turned down the volume, and snapped a few pictures before the lights began shutting off across the room. He stood, closed the recordbook, and was beginning to put it back with the other records when something manifested itself as a whisper in his left ear.
“Some things don't need to be seen.”
He frantically swatted his shoulder, checking for some unseen accompaniment, then whirled around but saw nothing. His eyes darted back and forth across the room, but nothing appeared. The lights were still shutting off in sequence and the darkness was drawing near. Brann kept a wary eye on the nearest exit as he finished sliding the book onto its shelf.
Nothing continued to happen.
He was satisfied and began shuffling toward the exit, opening his phone again to check the pictures he had taken. As soon as he opened the “My Photos” menu the air behind him shifted oddly, and he spun on his heels to confront his unseen adversary. Every single light abruptly shut off. He froze for a moment, took stock of the situation, and immediately started trying to find the exit. Even the lights outside seemed to have gone dark, and when Brann looked at where the window used to be, the city was pitch-dark.
Completely obscured by absolute blackness.
He clicked a button on his phone, attempting to turn on the backlight. Nothing happened. He pressed some more buttons. Still nothing. Alarmed again, he began running toward the estimated location of the nearest exit but was stopped by an acute pain at the base of his skull.
One might say everything went dark, but the change was imperceptible.
The skies were a wonderfully dead shade of grey that day. The breeze was a most bitter cold, and the dead leaves skidding across the pavement provided the perfect ambiance for our little display...
Her milky skin glowed in the dull light, her shimmering, wavy, reddish hair framing her perfect little face so deliciously. It was a joy to see her lips turning blue, her petite figure writhing and thrashing as I strangled her within an inch of her life, pausing to give her time to recover, and then starting my little game all over again. When she eventually stopped moving, I thought my fun was over...
But the fun had only begun. She was a sly little creature, and when I let up, thinking her dead, she heaved a great breath and got to her feet. It was a wondrous chase, though it lasted barely a minute – I had caught her before she even left the alley and I was already working her with my knife when she managed to scream for help. I turned her on her back, held the knife to her throat and grazed it ever-so-slightly; the tiniest trickle of blood flowed out, just enough to pique my interests. I pinned her hands and legs with yet more knives, and as I began the incision down her torso, I propped her head up on a rock so she could watch the procedure-
“AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH”
Brann opened his eyes with a shriek, shaking with every muscle in his body. He clambered to his feet, looked around, and began running – he was on the library's front steps, his cell phone still in hand, and a look inside showed everything to still be dark inside He ran and ran, jumping over fences and ducking in and out of late-night traffic, and he collapsed on Sara's doorstep not fifteen minutes later.
It was only then that he realized that he was still screaming.
