About a month had passed since her last visit to Izel. Nora parked her car outside, staring up at Izel’s window. Hopefully it was a torturous month, one where Izel would think about what’d she heard every night just before bed. The human brain was amazing thing, finding fear in the darkness even if there were none. Nora didn’t know much about Izel but she applied that rule to everyone she scared until proven otherwise. If her plan was time out right, Izel would be back to a normal sleeping pattern, no longer worried that they were watching her.

Nora took a deep breath, her fingers tapping against the motorcycle handles. This illusion was going to be difficult. There were more moving part that’d be placed farther away than what she’d be used to. She parked her bike behind a garbage bin. No prying eyes needed to see her vehicle. First things first, she pulled a new note out of her pocket. It was smaller this time. She slid it under the window, making sure it fell to the floor.

This time it said:
“Help Me Please
Where do they go?
The faces, they’re gone
He eats them
They taste good

She’d done her best to give each line a different hand writing, but her calligraphy had never been the best. Tossing her hood over her face, Nora went back into the alley. She would be out of sight for all of this. It was time to start. She searched deep inside herself, looking for the small thread of magic that she could use to weave such beautiful things.

A scream filled the night. “HE’S COMING. SAVE ME. SOMEONE PLEASE.” Lights started flickering on around the street. “HELP IZEL. IZEL HE’S COMING FOR Y-“ the scream didn’t finish. Windows opened, people peering out all of them were left with the same sight. Standing under a street light was a figure, features and body covered in dark material and shadow. In his out stretch hands the resemblances of a face, skinned off a human body, blood dripping onto the concrete sidewalk. The street light flickered out. When light returned he was gone. No trace of him was left, not even the small pool of blood.

The next morning, as people gossiped about it, they would find that people five buildings down either direction heard nothing. Nothing disturbed their perfect night of slumber.