The Murder Of Willowstream

Prologue

 Rhys didn't know what bade him to awaken in the middle of the night. Except conversely, he most certainly did. The figure sat comfortably in the open window, silhouetted in a silver outline of the full moon at his back. Featureless, save for two indistinguishable features. The first, was the cool steel of the handgun reflecting the pale light as it comfortably rested on his lap and pointed in Rhys' direction. The second, and most telling, feature were the dual pinpricks, red in colour like blood on a black canvas, that glowed softly. They were eyes, expectant and relaxed, as if they had been watching for some time.

Rhys had expected Alaric to come eventually. He just didn't expect for it to take so many years. He cursed himself for not remembering that Vampires make for patient predators.

Rhys' thoughts went to his own weapon, hidden in the draw of the desk on the other side of the room. He'd be dead before he even moved a muscle.

"She's nothing." Rhys mentioned, keeping his voice low to avoid waking the sleeping woman at his side. He watched as Alaric tilted his head curiously to the side, the moonlight lighting his features up a little more. His hair was a little longer than Rhys remembered. Still gelled to high heaven, but longer.

"Nothing... A woman who cooks you dinner, lies in your bed, and strokes your hair while you sleep... Is nothing?" His voice was hushed and ponderous. Knowing but unmocking in its tone. "Interesting."

"She doesn't have anything to do with this. You're here for me, you don't need to kill her too." Rhys whispered

"I'm not here to kill anyone." Alaric replied, straightening his head. Rhys tempted getting out of bed. When Alaric didn't make a move, Rhys groped in the dark for a shirt and jeans, not bothering with underwear, and stealthily pulling them on. All too aware of the unwavering gaze of Alaric.

"Can you do me a favour? For old times sake?" Rhys questioned to the shadow in the window frame, taking the ensuing silence as permission to continue. "Can we not do this here? We can do it now but... I want to be outside when you do it."

Rhys stood perfectly still, watching his once upon a time friend sit unmoving. He'd reserved himself to this fate long ago. But of all things, he wished now that he just had a little more light with which to see the expression on Alaric's face. Perhaps a glimmer of hope would portent that Alaric was having second thoughts about killing him. But no, if Alaric was anything: it was a killer. And this killer was as silent as the dead he left behind.

"Outside..." Alaric all but hummed quietly in response, before leaving nothing but the slightest flutter of the curtains following after his disappearance.

Rhys remained still in confusion for a moment. He pondered retrieving his weapon now that the threat was temporarily gone. Was Alaric so confident in his ability to kill Rhys that he wanted Rhys to arm himself? Perhaps to make the subsequent execution more interesting? Or was this a show of trust then?

There was one thing Rhys was sure of: it was that killing Alaric was an impossibility. Rhys was out-gunned, out-skilled, and out-matched. But at the very least Rhys could wound his old friend. Give him something to remember him by.

In the end Rhys chose to forgo picking up the weapon. What would be the point? He gave one last look to the woman still wrapped comfortably in the blankets, clutching them and holding the warmth Rhys' body left behind close to her chest, before creeping out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Upon opening the front door he saw Alaric leaning nonchalantly against the porch stand. He was bathed in the light of the moon here, the near perfect symmetry of his features still held their haunting allure, like the bait of an angler fish, beautifully calling you within reach of the fanged monster that lurked just beyond the shadows. He crooked his head with an expressionless face as he gestured with the gun for Rhys to lead onwards.

And Rhys did so, tensing his arms against the bite of the midnight air as he stepped uncomfortably close to Alaric and down the porch steps, the dirt path crunching quietly underneath his shoes.

They walked for sometime until the house became far from possible gun shot. They both walked in silence, Rhys couldn't hear the footsteps of Alaric, but could feel his presence behind him like a heavy ghost. Then his voice cut through the silence of midnight:

"No further."

Rhys stopped in his tracks, his disciplined heart had involuntarily begun to pound at the end rapidly hurrying forward to meet him. It pumped him full of adrenaline, causing the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end.

Everything had inevitably spun to this moment. He'd always expected it to come, but now he couldn't help but feel that it had rushed to catch up with him. How did it get here so fast? That would require going back to the beginning...

A/N: Well here we are again, babes. Welcome to the prologue!

Still ticking with the third person point of view on this one, I'm trying something new (for me anyway) that I've actually planned this story as much as I could! Where as the others on my profile I wrote as the inspiration came, ya know?
Anyway, feel free to vote or comment if you liked it or hated it.

No matter what though, thanks for reading ^-^