The winter night sky was wrenched with the dying wails of townspeople. Blood was splattered about the snow that blanketed the earth, like paint thrown wildly on a canvas. Flames engulfed many of the wooden homes and flared wildly, trying to grasp the sky in their embers. Two dark forms advanced gradually through the blazing town as if taking a routine night stroll. The figures were vague, shrouded by the shadows of the burning buildings and structures. One was much taller than the other, his feet sinking heavily into the snow as he lumbered forward. The silhouette was carrying a weapon at its side. The smaller figure withdrew from his companion, casually traversing the town's dirt pathway which had been obscured by the fallen flakes. They appeared oblivious to the surrounding carnage.

 As they continued forward, the shorter of the two, Miasma, came to a sudden halt. The flames illuminated his form. He was a winter shade of pale, his skin complexion accentuating his silver hair that fell like silk drapes to his shoulders. His pallid green eyes had a soulless visage about them, his young features betraying no expression.  

 Miasma glanced aside in the direction of one of the homes yet to be devoured by the flames. He turned and began towards the door, his companion stopping as well and following behind.

 Miasma tried the knob vigorously, but it was locked. Undaunted, he turned to his companion, and with a nod, stepped out of the way. The larger being, Mortifer, trudged towards the entrance. The light from the surrounding blaze revealed that he was wearing a beige colored sack about his head. A noose was wrung tightly around his neck, ridding the material of any bulk. Some excess rope trailed down his back, as if he had been hung and later tore away from the tree. Two circular eyeholes were cut into the sack, although no evidence of eyes could be seen in the makeshift sockets. A grin was smeared across the right side of where his mouth was thought to be. On the left side, however, the smile suddenly slanted as if the designer had violently jolted the brush down in an erratic motion, causing it to appear as a disturbing frown.

 He was clad in a long trench coat that was worn and tattered, blood stains strewn about it. He was a foreboding presence, his tall well-built frame looming well above Miasma.

 Mortifer drug his weapon in the snow behind him, leaving a trail in the frozen heap. The instrument was a rod, similar to a cudgel, with a mahogany handle and a steel beveled end.  Hefting it with both hands, he swung forcefully at the door, battering the solid framework. His efforts were rewarded with a web of cracks at the impact site, but nothing more. Tilting his head, he then lurched forward and bashed the door with his fist, ripping a hole through the structure. Reaching around with his now bleeding hand, he searched for the handle. Finally getting a hold of it, he opened the door from the inside. Miasma walked in unfazed, Mortifer following in suit.

 The warmth that greeted the duo was quickly replaced with a bitter chill as Miasma proceeded forward. The short entryway led to a fair sized living room with a traditional styled fireplace that cracked and hissed, creating a dim glow within the room. It was left on as the owners fled the home.

 They stood in the center of the space, the rod still clutched in Mortifer’s grasp tightly. Blood dripped from within the glove of his damaged hand.

 A faint creak of a distant floorboard in the home caught their attention. They stared intently towards the origination of the sound, a long hallway with multiple doors. Mortifer had already begun making his way towards the entrance. His boots thudded against the wood heavily, his head cocked strangely to the side in curiosity. As he ventured further into the dark corridor, he analyzed each door carefully, his raspy breathing muffled by the mask.

 As Mortifer reached the last door, a scarlet-speckled trail on the floor from his injured hand, he swiveled his head and stared at Miasma. He then smeared his own blood across the door, marking his find. A slight smirk danced about Miasma’s lips as he approached the door. Miasma paused for a few moments and then opened the door, casting a sideways glance at Mortifer.

 The veil of tangible blackness in the room consumed them as they entered the room, slowly scanning the dark space. As the two proceeded Mortifer continued to peer into the depths of the pitch-black room, hunched over slightly, his cudgel poised at his side ready to strike. Miasma stepped forward and immediately looked to his right.

 “There.” He casually lifted a finger in the direction he was staring.

With a curt wave of his hand, the darkness suddenly retracted and the room was just dim enough to see. All of the shadows magnetized to his own, causing it to deform and alter like an apparition.

 Their attention locked onto the scene that lay before them, a bed with a group of children of various ages huddled together on it. They shivered as Miasma approached them, a frigid chill accompanying his presence. Each step rendered a whimper of fear from the children. Miasma studied each of their faces, his expression betraying no hint of emotion. His brow quirked and then he turned with a shrug, his interest departing with him. As he began towards the door once more, he paused before exiting.

 “Mortifer, don’t play with them too long. We have more work to do.”

With those words, he left the room, the coldness subsiding as he did so.

Mortifer watched him leave, and then revolved to face the children, his head hung low. It quickly snapped back up, the eyeholes of the sack-mask directed at the group. Even within the gloom, the dark voids of the mask bore through the eyes of the children, transfixing them within the abysses. The putrid scent of rotting corpses overwhelmed them as Mortifer lingered in the darkness.

 One of the children, a small brunette girl, began to sob loudly as she clutched a worn, button-eyed teddy bear close to her. An older boy held her tight, attempting to comfort her. His eyes were multi-colored globes, one brown and the other crimson. Dark, unkempt hair fell near his shoulders. A worn, grey scarf was wrapped around his neck, white diamond patterns adorning it. Smudges were scattered about his face, matching the stains on his tattered clothing. His scrawny frame huddled over the little girl. The other children, all with fearful eyes, inched closer to the middle of the bed, trying to further themselves from the eerie figure.

 The boy watched as Mortifer crept towards the edge of the bed, his expression wavering. The foul smell grew stronger, nearly suffocating them.

 As Mortifer stared blankly at the children, the boy looked into his face solemnly, and uttered “Please…don’t…” in a choked voice.

 Mortifer cocked his head to the side as if contemplating the child’s words. The boy locked gazes with Mortifer, and the dark chasms that were Mortifer’s eye sockets pierced the striking glare of his own vivid eyes.
 The sinister image of the mask caused the children to cry out in terror. Mortifer twitched bizarrely and broke the gaze, his head suddenly straightening. He raised his cudgel gradually above his head, the boy shielding the crying girl as the other children wailed in despair. Mortifer delayed for a split second as the weapon hung high over him, and then he brought the weapon down, the last words from the boy’s mouth a pleading “NO!”.

 Miasma directed his attention to Mortifer as he emerged from the hallway, letting his cudgel drop to the floor.

 “Finished?” he inquired, watching Mortifer, who held something in his hand by his side. Mortifer nodded stiffly, staring up at the ceiling absently. Miasma cast a look of grim amusement as the object came into view. A button-eyed teddy bear with fresh blood seeping into the head hung from his gloved hand.

 “Now, now Mortifer, there’s no need for souvenirs.” he teased, shaking his head.

 Mortifer glanced at him, clutching the bear firmly. Miasma waved him on with indifference as Mortifer retrieved his blood soaked weapon from the wood floor.

 “Come, there is still more work to be done.”

 The duo exited the home into the snow and turned onto the road, a dead silence greeting them. With one final glance acknowledging their deed, they turned and continued into the distance, diminishing slowly from sight.

CHAPTER 1

  The delicious aroma of exquisite chocolates and other desserts tickled the young boy’s nostrils, enticing him to retrieve the small bit of change from within his pocket. Delectable Danishes, colossal captivating cakes, and plentiful piquant pies lined the display of the warmly lit bakery. Every treat caught the gaze of the boy’s wonder-filled blue eyes. He ran his hand through his short blonde hair anxiously, unable to choose amongst the various desserts. The woman who owned the bakery noticed his indecisiveness and leaned over the counter.

 “You know, you could always get one of each.” She stated in a playful manner.

The boy sighed and smiled sheepishly.

 “Ha! I wish. I barely have enough money for one. My big bro gave me all that he had for this.” The woman acknowledged this with a slight nod. She directed her sights at a clock displayed above the entrance, then folded her arms and addressed him once more.

 “Well, I tell you what. I have a batch of strawberry frosted cupcakes I was saving from earlier to put out before the weather decided it wanted to rain waterfalls” she paused for effect, the sound of the pouring rainfall upon the roof emphasizing her statement. “And now I highly doubt I’ll have any more customers tonight. I plan to take some home to my little boy, but I think I can spare a few for you and your brother this once.”

 She winked as the boy’s eyes widened with excitement. His stomach growling, he nodded slowly, hypnotized with joy. With a clap of her hands, she turned towards the doorway behind her.

 “I shall return bearing delicious gifts” she joked once more.

 With that, she vanished to the back of the bakery.

 The boy hummed to himself and rocked on his feet, still gazing at the array of pastries and such in front of him. His short stature was noted as he struggled to peer over the counter in anticipation. The woman returned with a small white bag and handed it to him.

 “Here you are. Don’t eat them all at once!” She cautioned.

 He reluctantly removed his hand from within the bag, his expression one of hunger, and thanked the woman for the cupcakes.

 “You are very welcome – er -I never caught your name?”

 The boy fanned the bag with his hand as if to speed up the cooling process.

 “Oh my bro calls me Sean! What’s yours?”

 “Anna is my name dear.”The woman smiled warmly.

  She then reflected on his initial answer with a puzzled quirk of the brow.

 “Wait, calls you Sean? Well is that your real name then?”

 The boy’s face shifted to one of contemplation before he responded once more with a grin.

“I guess so.”  

 She seemed slightly confused by his reply, but shrugged it off.

 “Well Sean, I bet you’re just a heartbreaker to all those little girls out there with those pretty eyes” she smiled, noticing once more his alluring sapphire eyes.

  His irises resembled vivid cerulean galaxies, swirling brilliantly in their sockets. He blushed and turned away shyly. Thanking her once more, Sean waved goodbye and skipped towards the door merrily.

 “Be careful kid, it’s pretty nasty out there.”

Sean paused, zipped up his slim red jacket, and gave her a thumbs up. As he exited, he turned to her.

 “You and your son Jamie take care, Anna!”

She started to thank him, and then a puzzled look flashed upon her face.

 “Wait…How did you know my son’s name?“

He had already departed into the rain-filled night, leaving her in a state of bewilderment.

 The boy jogged through the cold, heavy rain, a smile still dancing on his face despite the fact he was getting soaked.

 As far as he could remember, he had never had a cupcake in his life. The puddles splashed beneath his feet audibly, as if applauding his fortune as he skipped through the narrow, winding roads of the town. As he progressed deeper, the scenery of the town shifted. The dreary buildings either side of the road that hung over the boy contrasted his joyful presence, the array of slums he passed unable to hamper his elation. Sean turned into a small alleyway with the bag tucked in his jacket. He scoured the dark expanse eagerly.

 “Damion? Hey Damion I’ve got food!”

 “He isn’t here kid.”

 Sean swiveled around to the origination of the voice. Two men approached him from the entrance of the alleyway. The one who had spoken removed a knife from his pocket as the other delivered a swift kick across Sean’s face sending him sprawling to the ground, the bag of cupcakes landing in a dirty puddle. Sean cried out as he attempted to crawl away from them, blood from his nose mixing with the mud now plastered on his face.

 “Damion! Help!”

 The man with the knife snatched him up by the collar of his jacket and held him to his face.

 “I said he isn’t here you little shit. But when he gets here, he’ll be joining you shortly, don’t worry.” He snickered as he brandished his knife to Sean’s throat.

 His accomplice spared a glimpse behind them.

 “Hurry up and kill him!”

  The man with the knife grabbed Sean by the hair and dragged him forward as he sobbed.

 “No, you saw what he did to our men. He needs to suffer tenfold. We’ll kill the boy in front of him, then kill that bastard too. Now come on!”

 He jerked a struggling Sean forward as they headed towards the entrance. Thunder began to rumble as the storm progressively grew worse, and lightning streaked across the sky. The duo stopped suddenly, their path blocked by yet another figure at the end of the alley.

 The silhouette was fairly tall and lean, imposing even to the two men who stood before it.

 “Let him go. Now.” The figure commanded.

 The man with the knife sneered in its direction.

 “Or what? Why don’t you come here and we can have a nice chat about earlier, Damion?”

 The silhouette remained still.

 “Last chance. Let him go.”

 The man with the knife was unmoved.

 “You don’t make the demands boy. You took from us, and you and this little shit are going to pay for it. Starting with him.”

 As he motioned towards Sean with his knife, Damion was upon him with uncanny speed. Before he could react, Damion’s fist crushed his throat. A look of shock accompanied his raspy choking as he released Sean and crumpled to the floor, dead before he hit the ground. His partner fumbled with a gun from his waistband as this occurred. Sean stumbled behind a dumpster and covered his ears, tears streaming down his face. The man successfully retrieved the gun and directed it towards Damion’s shadowy form, firing multiple shots in quick succession, his eyes filled with fear. The gunman suddenly felt a hand clutch him by the throat as he was lifted off the ground, and another flash of lightning revealed his assailant.

 Two completely black eyes stared at his own. The sclerae and pupils were an ebony tint, with a pair of strand-thin white irises sweeping his features. Damion bared his abnormally sharp teeth, his pallid features shifting into a twisted smirk. A terrified scream managed to escape the man’s throat. With unnatural, savage strength, he was flung head first at the wall of the alleyway, silencing his cries forever.

 Sean removed his hands from his ears following the abrupt stillness. As he cautiously peered around the corner, the figure turned in his direction, hands in his pockets.

 “Damion?” he whispered with a shaky voice.

 Damion stepped out of the shadows, running a hand through his short, wild black hair.

 “You alright Sean? They didn’t mess you up too bad did they?”

 Sean wiped the mixture of tears, blood, and mud from his face with his sleeve.

 “I’m fine bro. Who were they?”

 “Assholes.” Damion picked up the white bag from the puddle nearby.

 “Assholes? What are-“

 “Don’t worry about it Sean. What’s this?” He shook the bag, and then sniffed it in a feral manner.

 “That was dinner. I got cupcakes from Anna the bakery lady. But now they’re ruined” he said, his voice quivering with sadness.

 Damion opened the bag. Indeed most of the cupcakes were crushed and muddied from the fall, all save for one with pink icing mounted at the top of the pile. He removed it from the bag and handed it to Sean.

 “You bought cupcakes? Sean, you need real food. You haven’t eaten in days.”

 Sean stared at his feet ashamed, avoiding eye contact. Damion sighed reluctantly.

“I’ll get you something when I get cash. Here, eat.”

 Sean sniffled and wiped his eyes once more with one hand as he accepted the treat with another. Without hesitation, he halved the cupcake and offered it to Damion, who declined.

 “Eat Sean. I’ll be fine.”

 Sean hesitated initially, and then took a small bite of the dessert. It was by far the sweetest, richest food he had ever tasted. His eyes lit up with delight. A glowing blue luster emanated from him and filled the long alley. Damion chuckled lightly.

 “That good huh?”

 Sean nodded in reply. Damion inspected the bodies on the ground. He recovered a pack of cigarettes from one of the bodies, which he pocketed, but nothing more.

 “Damn…No money. Alright, let’s get out of here. We need to find somewhere else to stay tonight.”  

 As the duo made their way through the streets of the town, the rain pelting them relentlessly, they came across a young man sitting cross-legged against a flickering street light. Sean came to a slow halt a few paces behind Damion.

 "Sean, hurry up." Damion urged impatiently.

 Sean nodded to acknowledge Damion, and then returned his attention to the teen.

 The rain hammered his still form in vain. His messy, jet black hair that fell at medium length above his shoulders was drenched with rain. His head was ducked low, concealing his face. A grey, diamond-patterned scarf was draped around his neck. Strapped across his back was a long cloth wrapped item, although what it was Sean could not determine. He did not acknowledge Sean's presence, even as the boy reached into his pocket. Sean retrieved the change of which he had intended to use at the bakery and placed it on top of the cloth item. With one last gaze he turned and ran to catch up with Damion, who had now ventured further out of sight.

  The teen looked up and watched Sean disappear into the night. His oddly colored eyes flicked swiftly to the money that was left in front of him. He gradually reached forward, picking up one of the coins and studying it with his crimson and brown eyes. Jagged scars decorated the left side of his face, remnants of a past encounter years ago. After gathering the change and pocketing it, he rose in silence from where he sat. He felt the cold, wet concrete with his bare feet, as if just realizing he had toes. His gaze was fixated in the distance where Sean and Damion had vanished. He glowered as the image of Damion crossed his mind, the aura he felt from his presence stirring his memories.They both felt so hauntingly familiar.

He would cross paths with them again soon, he was certain. However, for now, he couldn’t deter from the sole reason he had traveled to this town.

  He began in the opposite direction, the street light burning out behind him.