Phased

~0 • Prologue~

Barracks Street, Hyde City - Monday 1st February 10:58 p.m.

A boy walked down a street in the darkness of the night. The tarmac beneath his feet was pitch black, and the buildings around him were caught with the grey-blue sheen of the moonlight. Everything glistened with dampness from the evening dew, slowly beginning to catch with ice.

The boy was probably no older than nine, with soft brown hair and large blue eyes. A dusting of freckles dashed across his cheeks and nose, and his wiry frame had still yet to develop into maturity.

There was a breath, and a shuffle from the darkest shadows of the city.

As he walked, his breath came out in puffs of fog, his jacket not quite enough for the chilly air. His eyes still stung from recent tears and his stomach rumbled loudly for the silence of the night.

Maybe he should've eaten dinner before he exploded at his parents for their cruelty, but that thought made him scowl. It wasn't his fault that Gino had gotten a bloody nose! And it wasn't him who'd broken Lottie's favourite toy. Just because he was a little more stubborn and a little less perfect than all of his siblings didn't mean that his parents had to blame everything on him.

He kicked at a pebble angrily.

The pebble skittered across the path, and landed at the foot of a person, their figure hidden in the dark.

The boy didn't notice though. He just continued on his storm, unaware of the danger that was about to land on him. All he could think about was his focused anger on his dumb family members.

The shadow moved, their long hands searching for their first victim.

A shiver went up the boy's spine.

The shadow paused, biding their time for the right moment.

"Hello? Who's there?" He asked, not being able to hide the whimper in his voice.

The shadow made no noise.

His anger drained out of him in a flash, and the sudden realisation that he was all alone in a dark street dawned on him. His arms came around his body and he hugged himself tight.

Small tears prickled at his eyes as he stood still amongst the silence of the night. The street was so wide, so empty. The boy felt small, and cold and scared. He bit the inside of his cheek — a nervous habit that he'd discovered recently — moved to the edge of the road, and sat down.

Milo didn't know where he was, and he didn't know how to get back. A wild panic was sitting in his chest, which made him overwhelmingly sad. The tears started out small, but then they came gushing out, and choked sobs came out of him.

He wanted his family. He wanted to go home.

It's too late for that. The shadow thought, and after a few more seconds, it moved again.

It moved, and stepped closer and closer to the boy, sitting on the curb with his face in his hands. He was deaf to the world now, trapped in his own bubble of despair.

So until the shadow sat down to him, he didn't even lift his head up.

"Daddy...?" He whimpered, his head turning up to meet with the shadow's eyes.

The shadow smiled kindly, its face morphed into the shape of Mr. Blake.

"It's me, Milo."

Without hesitation, the child leaped into his arms, and buried his head into the crook of his father's shoulder. He sobbed, but mostly just squeezed his dad in relief, in the fact that he wasn't lost anymore, and that he would be able to go home.

A bright light cut through the dense night, and a car followed, flashing past the small child and the figure of a man next to him. The driver hesitated for a moment as she went past, wondering if she should stop to check it out, but then decided better and assumed that the figure must've been the child's father. So she drove on, unaware that if she'd stopped that night, Milo would never had lost his life.

"I'm sorry," his father whispered. His breath was warm against Milo's cheek.

I'm sorry I have to do this to you.

And before Milo could even make another sound, his neck had been broken.

11:00pm