Darkness Falls- Preface

Preface

In the oppressing darkness of the cemetery, it’s only the shock of unnaturally pale skin beneath wavy dark hair that gives him away; the rest of him blends perfectly into the night. He moves smoothly through the rows, quick and purposeful strides not disturbing loose dirt or upsetting the smallest blade of grass. A casual observer might think they were watching a ghost. If they believed in that sort of thing.

A hand brushes through his hair as he pauses, search light blue eyes narrowing as he reads the name on the nearest headstone. It isn’t the one he’s looking for. He continues at his brisk stride, eyes scanning back and forth from stone to stone as he moves further into what is the final resting place for so many. A flash of metal; he mumbles to himself as he shakes the watch back under the sleeve of his black leather jacket. A gust of wind reveals a black sweater beneath. Black jeans and shoes complete the man’s ensemble.

He’s getting impatient; he needs to find what he came here for. A dog begins howling off in the distance as a car alarm sounds from down the street. Somewhere a radio is blasting and people are howling almost as loudly as the dog, bellowing hostilities and friendly banter alike. He hears none of it, however; he is as oblivious to the outside world as they are to this ghost roaming the cemetery on a cold December night.

He stills again, and in less time than it takes to blink he is halfway down the row. This is what he’s been looking for. Slowly, cautiously, he bends down to examine it. The stone is smooth and almost as cold as he is. The grass surrounding it is still green and slightly damp from earlier rainfall. He plucks a strand, moving it between his fingertips. Then he brushes his hand through the grass nearest the stone and watches as it springs back the moment he pulls away. The grass is one of the few things in this place that is still alive. At this time of night, it’s likely the only thing in this place that’s still alive.

A bouquet of flowers rests against the stone, pink petals in full bloom. He doesn’t need to lean in to smell how fresh they are. A few minutes pass while he remains motionless, perched over the grave and resting his chin in his hand. He feels like he could stay that way forever, a stone sentinel standing guard over her. Forever, or at least until sunrise, when his ashes would scatter over hers. It was time he did what he came here to do. He shifts. Draws a shuddering breath, though he hasn’t needed to breathe in years. He rocks back onto his heels, steeples his fingers together, and looks out over the empty graveyard before resting his eyes on the familiar name and finally beginning to speak.

“Hello,” he begins awkwardly. He clears his throat. “You two are very alike, you know. I don’t think I was able to impress upon you the last time just how very alike you are.” There is silence for a moment, a silence that extends no further than the private little world that’s built itself around them. Outside, an uncaring city carries on with business as usual.

Memory claims another few moments before a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I think I must have known who you were the moment I met you. Very deep down, of course. I’m sure neither of us will forget that I tried to kill you on that first serendipitous meeting.” He’s actually laughing now. “But at least I got over it, right? I saw you for what you really were. What you really meant to me.” He gives himself over to another few minutes of silent reminiscing.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a whisper, but he’s sure she hears it. “I’m so, so sorry.” Head hanging and voice dropping still further, he continues, “I should have been there. I should have stayed with you. Helped you. Protected you.” Now the anger’s building up. He’s angry with himself for walking out that night, leaving and never coming back. Not coming back, that is, until tonight. When it was already too late to do anything for her.

His face grazes the headstone as he leans to rest his lips upon the cool surface; a single kiss covers the name engraved in perfect lettering across the center of the stone. He rests his hand against it, needing this one last contact with her before he leaves. A single word shows from beneath splayed fingertips: Rayne.