"ElzuWolfe's entry into the Summer Prose Competition 2010"
Broken by nebulous voids, the clouds in the sky were the rustic colour of the desert at twilight. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon not too long ago and the world felt as though a massive weight had been lifted with the disappearance of light. Rays of the sun still sprayed into the sky, speckling those sandy clouds with pockets of creased gold.
The city slowed in summer’s evening heat. Drabs of noise tremulously rose from the tall buildings thick in the muggy air. The world now seemed almost completely emerged in the night.
This feeling of peace deteriorated with the coming of the moon, and it’s soft children chasing it, silver in the night. Their sandy texture faded and the world was hugged in a blanket of umbra.
The streets of London were dead in the night. By the embankment darkness shuddered, crept in on the old city like the plague.
A wind rose, carrying the scent of warm city air and stagnant water, then flittered away. No rain fell and the clouds ground to a halt, even the moon sat wide eyed in the sky shocked by the stillness.
In a wave of utter darkness, she came, fluttering through the world, penetrating the light and spitting out her dark colours. Some saw her as a cloud, some saw her as a black circle, and some saw her as a spider. She towered above the world and corkscrewed her emptiness upon them all.
The veil of her wake shuddered through the landscape, blackening even the darkest of shadows, she was eternal umbra, a shadow carried on the back of time, drawing in the days with a open mouth, threading her tongue into the world, her saliva leaving a twilight residue which burnt day away, and corroded into black.
Nyx stood, naked and bold in the moonlight by the docks. Embers throbbed slightly as she inhaled on a cigarette, the light catching her face, trickling down the curves of her body like a burning mosaic of fire and shadow.
“They’re bad for you” a voice said, from the darkness, it was soft and calculated. Nyx exhaled, a ring of smoke pulsed from her perfectly formed lips, and she lowered her arm, resting her cigarette by her side whilst it still projected fluttering shadows off of a variety of shapes. Curves of skin, textures of debris, swaying block shadows of the pillar she lent against.
“So they tell me.” Her voice was seductive and relaxed, she reached out and plucked stars from the sky, held the glowing orbs momentarily as they flickered and made shadows dance across her soft skinned face, then crushed them between her index finger and thumb. “To what do I owe the pleasure, stitcher?” As she lent against the pillar she allowed her head to roll lazily to one side, directing her eyes towards the source of the voice that had interrupted her quick guilty pleasure.
“I heard you were in town, is all. Thought I’d pay you a visit, make sure you’re keeping out of trouble.” The voice spoke, the words travelled through the air, lymphatic, almost chimerical, they almost seemed bound to another plane of reality, or fantasy.
“Of course. The time is upon us all. I wouldn’t miss this for all the light in the universe.” Nyx took another drag from her cigarette, burning it down quite close to the filter. She moved away from the shadows to reveal her black body, her skin was smooth and entirely jet. When she moved she didn’t use her legs, at least not her human legs. She moved smoothly out of the darkness, supported by eight massive, black, fuzzy spider legs that protruded from her back.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a missing wing walker would you?” the voice came from the shadows.
“Are you accusing me of killing the Life God’s minions, stitcher? I don’t take well to accusations.” Nyx retorted, swiftly.
“I never said anything about a killing, Light-eater. What do you know?” The voice came powerful and dominating in the darkness.
Nyx remained silent, her eyes became steely and her bright white hair glowed in the moonlight. The wind knocked the boats on the river; they creaked and thudded dully against one another in the calm waters.
The owner of the voice in the darkness stepped forward, his hair was a messy wave of dark green, and his body was covered in a thin fur, it seemed a pale yellow in the moonlight. His arms were toned and were bound by green bands. A long stripy tale followed him out of the darkness, the end of it was punctuated with a sharp curved, diamond shaped disc. He walked like a human, in fact his whole physique was human, but he was covered this strange fur and his tail was an odd addition.
“Don’t think about running. You know not even you can out run me Nyx.” His eyes were large almond shapes, keen and alert.
“You’ll never stop him, Stitcher.” She whispered and, despite his warning, Nyx shuddered from reality into a nothingness, burning a hole in the earth texture. Splitting this part of the world in two.