Into the Void

Chap #1 - The Darkness Between The Stars

"~ Late at night, a chilling sound ~"

The last weak rays of a dying sun slip below the broken horizon of a world we used to believe safe. To everyone still sane, we know what the shadow of night brings.

I shift heavy boards of plywood in front of the last thick, oaken door, dragging a heavy desk in the way of it to seal me in and the horrors of the night out. It takes about an hour to make sure the whole house is completely prepared. I hear Ella panting beside me, leaning forwards to rest her elbows on her knees in exhaustion. I'm glad we've gotten the whole house done before it gets pitch-black. Just in time, for as I look out, I see the unmistakable, sleek coat of a void creature. Darker than even the blackest of nights, they have earned their name well; they can't really be explained as anything but a void.

I move away from the window silently, careful not to make a noise that would alert it of my presence. I beckon to Ella, who obediently tiptoes after me. Settling into my ratty old bed, making sure to avoid the creaky spots, I rest my head back on the tough pillow. My cheek brushes against Ella's silky golden hair. Although nights like this are common here, in our run-down little village, I still haven't really gotten used to these routines yet; the house has been half-empty for about two months now, and still the shock hasn't faded.

I'm comforted, though, by the warm presence beside me, snuggling closer. My ten-year-old sister, Ella. Her face lights up as I pull her closer.

"Raina?" she whispers in her tiny voice. I can't help it, my eyes flood immediately. She's really the only one that can break through my tough outer skin and into the soft, newly unprotected interior. I feel a sudden urge to pull her closer as the suffocating shadows grow darker and darker...

"Yes?" I answer, my voice as soft as the blanket we are cuddled under.

"Tell me a story."

My heart gives a little skip. I begin to weave a tale of three fine men who compete for her hand in marriage. They trip over themselves in their haste to win her heart. A silly story, one that makes her smile in the bleakest of times, in the oppressive darkness that she so fears. One that makes her cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the giggles, more than once.

When it's finally over about twenty minutes later, Ella is totally distracted from the danger lurking outside. She falls into a deep sleep. I can only hope it's dreamless.

I myself lie awake for the next hour, staring up at the blank off-white ceiling. I notice the weirdest details: the paint is chipping, faded, grimy...there remain several long scratches and dark red splatters from... that night... I turn away and look at the floor. My eyes find the bloodstains that I was unable to scrub off of the oak floor boards. I tear my eyes away and look to the closet, for some inexplicable reason. The splintering wood causes unwanted memories to flood my mind. I shudder.

That's when I roll over and force myself to close my eyes. Ella's breathing is even now, slow. She's safe beside me, I remind myself. I drape one protective arm around her. and squeeze my eyes shut tighter, until at last I manage to drift in and out of a restless sleep.

I startle awake to the creaking of old floor boards. Instantly, I whip my head around to check the space beside me. Ella's there. She's fine, still sleeping. The room is silent, cloaked in shadow, though the curtains are open and fluttering in a cool night breeze. Moonlight spills in, bearing shadows that tower and seem to lunge at me in the small room. How could I have been so careless as to not pin those curtains shut? I reach for my knife but realize with a jolt that I left it near the furthest door away from this room, my parents' old room, on the desk I dragged over. Not that it would give me much help against the worst threat, either way. The floorboards creak again, closer this time. Holding my breath, I try desperately to think. As I reluctantly get to my feet, leaving the warmth beneath the covers, goosebumps pepper my bare skin. I should have been smarter, and worn something more than my jeans and faded black t-shirt to bed. The cold shocks me and an idea pops into my head. My backup knife, kept safe beneath the couch between two old floorboards! My only hope. But that's in the front room, near the back door.