Legacy of a Dreamer by Allie Jean

across the mattress, keeping the thing in view as she reached for the lamp. He laughed, both of them knowing she was pathetic. He raised his blade as his oozing mouth formed a horrifying smile.
    “Excuse me,” a male voice said from behind the cloaked figure, making both the creature and Chantal pause. A man stepped into view, gray-skinned, dark-haired, dressed in only a black pair of jeans with those distinct eyes Chantal had seen in the alleyway. “I think the lady’s made it clear she wants you to back off. Besides, you’re kind of gross.”
    The creature lunged at the gray-skinned man, thrusting his blade toward his bare torso. The man spun, melting into the darkness, becoming part of the shadow again. He reappeared behind the creature, yielding a blade of his own.  
    They fought ferociously as Chantal sat frozen on her bed. Each had the ability to move like lightning; each could disappear into the darkness.
    “She will die, Warrior, no matter how many you send to protect her,” the creature said, spitting his dark venom onto the floor as he whipped around in attempt to slice at the man’s lower torso.
    “Not by your hand, and not while I’m still around,” the gray man said, hacking his blade through the air and just missing the creature’s melon-shaped head.
    “You protect her in vain,” it said, landing a punch to the man’s flank.
    “She’s survived this long,” the gray man said, plunging his blade deep into the creature’s abdomen. It sputtered, spraying black liquid onto the floor. “And she will survive tonight, just like I said she would.” He twisted the blade, causing the creature let out a gurgled cry, and a torrent of fluid poured from the creature’s terrible mouth, leaving a puddle on the floor. The thing melted in front of her, joining the filth on the floor. Once the creature had dissolved, the remains sizzled like acid and then disappeared.
    The man stood, his blade held out at an angle, the length of it covered in black ooze. His eyes were vacant, his mouth moving as if in prayer. Chantal watched him, horrified and amazed at the same time.
    “Nick?” she said. He glanced up and captured her with his angelic eyes.
    “You know, I’ve always wondered why you call me that.”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Chantal whispered, a wave of revelation hitting her. “You were the one in the tunnel.”
        “Yes,” he said in a flat tone. “You shouldn’t have been down there. It was dangerous.”  
    “Who are you?” she said, her mind trying to wrap around what she’d witnessed twice in one day. She sat perched on the edge of her bed, not trusting her legs to hold her up.
    “You know, it’s late. You should get some rest.” He stepped into the kitchen, checking behind the small protruding countertop.
    “You’re kidding me, right?”
    “Do I look like I’m kidding?”  
    “You look like something out of a freaking comic book.” She gestured toward him in an exaggerated motion.
    He glared at her, and she shrugged, unrepentant. He had to admit that his overall look tended to be a little overwhelming, not to mention what just transpired in the apartment.
    “Look, there’s no way I’m sleeping. That’s twice I’ve been attacked today. I want to know what’s going on. Am I dreaming? ”
    “You’re not asleep,” he said, sounding somewhat like a warning and an answer in one. He took a step closer, pausing to lean on the edge of her small kitchen table to gauge her reactions. She didn’t seem like she was about to pass out. Impressive, he thought. Any other woman in her situation would’ve hit the dirt running a couple times by now. But her kin had always been strong, at least the ones that survived past their childhood.
    “Please, just tell me what’s going on.” She stood up from her bed and took a step closer to him, seemingly unafraid. Chantal was a peculiar woman. Alone, terrorized and confused, she seemed to be handling what she’d seen as well as could