For the second time in thirty years, the entire world has fallen asleep...
Thirty years after the Greymen caused the decimation of her people, high school drop out Rain Collins spends her days learning to pickpocket and hold her booze. Yet she long...
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I stepped into a forest glade, its dark canopy lit by fireflies that hung lazily in the trees, golden leaves reflecting their iridescent light. A small bird flit into the clearing, dancing from light to light.
After a moment of watching its flight, I realized that the bird was eating the bugs and putting out the light. The glade was in near full-darkness. I shouted and waved my arms at the bird, shooing it away. My movement startled the bugs and the bird. They all took flight, leaving me alone in the dark.
"Not alone," said a voice behind me.
I turned and saw nothing, but it was too dark to see. "Who's there?" I asked the darkness.
"Why, I am me," the voice said, echoing. It sounded deeper than the darkness, but somehow hollow, too.
I felt a stir in the air. The leaves quietly rustled all around me, shifting in the sudden wind. The rustling grew louder until it was nearly roaring. The trees shook. I cowered. A thousand fireflies burst through the trees at once, shiny butts glowing. The glade was soaked in light.
In the center of the glade stood a tall man in a green tuxedo. Dad? But when the man turned, he did not have my father's face. He had no man's face. An oozing grey pile of skin with one deep black hole and two bright red circles sat where the face should have been. A Greyman's face. My Greyman's face. It was still strange to remember that.
"You're my Greyman," I said.
"I am? Oh, thank goodness. Then you must know. Be a good girl and tell me, what is my name?" In the light of the glade, the Greyman's echoing voice and bizarre face seemed almost more whimsical than terrifying. Almost.
"I don't know your name."
"Well, what is your name?"
"Rain."
"And I am yours?"
"Yes."
"Then you must tell me my name."
"What name would you like?"
"Hm." The Greyman paced the glade, his liquid legs flapping about strangely in the confines of his tuxedo pants. "Something sporting. How about Greyman?"
"That might be confusing."
"Why?"
"Well, if I say Greyman, how will you know if I'm talking about you or some other Greyman?"
"Right, well. I shouldn't be naming myself anyways. All due respect, but that really seems like something you should be doing."
"How about something like... Joe?"
"I suppose you'll have to have a think on it some more."
"Oh, yes, sir."
"Sir?" my Greyman's hollow tunnel of a mouth curved up at the ends, forming the misshapen entrance to a cave that somewhat resembled a smile. "A good name; direct, concise, and it's certainly appropriate. Right. You will call me Sir."
