The Dawn of Malice

Dawn's Light

He had died. How could he possibly be alive now?

Caerus pushed himself up from the cot. He blinked a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. Everything was a blur of dark shadows and faded edges. Vision slowly crept up to him until he could finally see. When his eyes cleared, he was in complete shock. He was in his room.

"Another bad dream..." Caerus said to himself as his eyes wandered across the room.

The room was as it should be. His dresser leaned on the opposite wall and a small stool stood next to it. Dust motes littered the air, passing in and out of the sliver of light from the window. The light caught his attention immediately. It wasn't nearly as bright as sunlight. So, Caerus swung his legs to the side and stood up slowly. And he walked gently toward the window.

Unlatching the slim metal lock, he pushed the rickety shutters open. All was quiet. Not a single person was out on the streets. He stared out toward the walls. A cluster of lights were placed just outside the city walls. Caerus ignored these lights, thinking they were merely traveling merchants who'd failed to get in before the gates closed. Caerus looked to his right, the clock tower, peeking out of tiled roofs and chimneys, indicated the time. It was half past midnight.

"I see you're finally awake?"

Turning with a slight tremor, Caerus looked toward the voice. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a shadowy figure seated diagonally from him. The once-empty stool is now occupied by a middle-aged man.

"W-w-who are you?!" Caerus stuttered as he backed away toward the wall. "How'd you get into my room without my notice?"

The man sat with one leg over the other. A book bound in leather, clasped in his slender fingers. Caerus immediately noticed the man's eyes, which focused intently on the book in his hand all within the dimly lit room. Caerus couldn't see his face but wondered how he could read in the darkness.

"Oh. I have my ways – and many other means – But it would seem the lock on your door is of mundane build. I suggest you change it." The man said with his eyes still focused on his book. "Do you still wish for me to introduce myself?" The man spoke as he uncrossed his legs. He raised his head, and two beady red eyes stared back at Caerus.

"I rather love this chapter of the book and wish not to stop."

Caerus looked at him with primal fear. He felt the fear of death. After a moment's silence, the man cocked his head to the side. Eyes still as red as blood.

"Ah. Silence, all right." He slapped the book shut. The sound reverberated throughout the room. A shiver ran down Caerus's spine. From the way this man handled himself, Caerus knew it would be difficult to escape. Caerus played with the thought of jumping out the window. But he quickly banished the thought. He was on the third story of the tenement. Nothing but hard pavement would break his fall. He was trapped.

There was harm in playing along with the mysterious man. One wrong move and Caerus could lose his life – or so he thought. He watched, with a mortified look on his face, as the man's eyes glowed in the dark. His crimson pupils sent chills up and down his spine. Caerus felt his leg twitching, but he could do nothing to stop himself.

"Please do introduce yourself. But before you introduce yourself, do tell me stranger, what happened to me?" Caerus found himself saying.

"Tut-tut. You don't remember?" The man raised an eyebrow in question. In a mere second, the glow of his crimson eyes was now gone, replaced by grey and observant ones. The moon's faint light gleamed on the man's face. Without the oppressing glow of his crimson eyes, his face was now mostly revealed. Caerus could tell he wasn't as old as he had initially thought.