After Dark

"Why do you want to kill me?" It shocked him to hear his own voice again. It came out as a quiet growl in the empty shell of his former home.

Sometimes he'd forget what it was like to be a man--the fear, the relentless stream of thoughts every waking minute, the yearning for more happiness, more money, the touch of a lover's hand. After so many years, the faces of the people he loved had disappeared behind the fog of time. Only the sounds and smells of the night filled his senses.

The woman by the door pointing a gun at him wasn't the first monster hunter to find him. And from the firm stance and steady hands, he could he wasn't her first monster, either.

She lowered her weapon just enough to look at him in the eye, hoping he'd stop talking. His voice took out some of the enjoyment of another successful hunt. Normally, the monsters she caught were too far gone to talk -- their grunts at times contained a word or two, but it was so close to the cries of a scared animal that it was easy to forget they had been humans once. But after they got a taste for human blood, they had to be put down.

"You killed that family last night. And the young couple from two nights ago, and so many others..." ...like my brother, she thought, but she'd never give him the satisfaction to know he killed one of her own.

The creature shook its head, defeated. His hands were a far cry from the hands that had once held his children, but he knew there was no blood in them.

"I never killed anyone. But I am tired. Do it. I want to see my family again."

She had seen the dusty, faded pictures on the mantlepiece. They showed a tall man with a mop of curly dark hair and a shy smile. The baby in his arms had the same sad brown eyes as his. She had read the story -- the wife and children, dead on their beds, and the husband missing.

A cold dread bloomed in her chest, but it wasn't out of fear. She was beginning to realise the depths of what she didn't know, what she chose to ignore.

"You think I killed them, too." The creature continued. Every word was a struggle "I never. I woke up to find them dead. My wife. My babies. My hands looked different. My body was heavy. I was in pain. I went outside. My neighbour saw me and screamed. I ran until..." He stopped. Talking again after so many years poked at the grief and loneliness he had befriended. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't remember how to do that. "It does not matter. I want to see my family again. Please. I am starting to forget..."

With a slow, deliberate move, the woman put her gun down. The pounding of her heart drowned the whispers of the warm breeze that poured through broken windows.

"Do you remember your name?" she asked quietly as if trying not to scare him.

The creature paused. The name he was looking for had a familiar taste--wine, brown sugar, his wife's lips when he kissed her under a full moon. The colour of her eyes was gone, but the echo of her voice calling his name still lingered.

"Mark. My name is Mark."

"Can I come closer, Mark?"

The creature nodded, and the woman walked toward him. The closer she got to him, the better she could see the exhaustion in his face. Little of his former features remained, but his sad, brown eyes were still painfully human, full of the sorrow and loneliness she had seen in the mirror that morning.

"I'm Alice." She looked around for a chair. "Can you try to tell me your story? Maybe if you look back, some things might return."

Her soft hand guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, and she pulled a chair for herself. With a sigh, the creature lowered its head. Words seemed beyond him, lost in the fog of time, and he feared the knives they'd carry with them. But as she met his gaze, the tears he felt on his weathered skin felt like hope for a story to be heard.