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(Page 2 of 4) One Dark Night by Gregory Harvey
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Still no movement.
"What the hell?" He muttered into the silence of the dormitory.
Suddenly a piercing noise exploded into his mind. Ben's eyes winced in pain. But as quickly as the noise began it ended, leaving him confused and disorientated. What the hell had that been?
As he looked out the window the piercing noise seemed to resonate back, although nowhere near as forceful, but this time there was also something wrong with the view. The statue... it had turned. The Virgin Mother was now facing towards his window. Her solemn pose was cast into the background as Benjamin noticed the blood flowing from her lips. It poured down the statue, flowing almost gaily into the pond below it. The piercing noise began to build in its intensity, but Ben could still not withdraw his eyes from the statue.
More and more blood poured while the piercing echoed back almost to the force it had carried before. Benjamin's eyes tried to shut, be he pried them open with force. Just as they flickered open again, the statue of Mary began to crumble. Slowly, working from head to toe, fragments of it splintered off and fell into the pond, which was now beginning to look more like a pool of blood out of some video game. Vile poured from the statue's wounds as the piercing became so strong as to force Ben to shut his eyes completely.
His teeth, clamped together from pain, began to loosen as the agonizing noise subsided. The crumbling of the statue, which Ben had been able to listen to even while his eyes were closed, appeared to have stopped. Cautiously, he opened his eyes again, only to find himself looking at the floor. He tilted his head to see out the window.
Where the statue of Mary once had stood, was a man wearing a long black leather jacket. A hood was draped over his head, which was facing down into the blood-saturated pond. The figure stood over the crumpled remains of the Virgin Mary. His body motionless, except for the slight movement of the jacket in the midnight breeze, the figure stood with a malicious breed of austerity.
Benjamin stood, paralysed. He had not yet given a thought to waking his friends, or yelling in any way. There simply seemed to be... no point? Instead he chose to watch the emotionless frame standing outside of his window. For Ben, it was not so much that he was seeing the man, but feeling him. Feeling his evil. Who was this, as to so boldly destroy the image of the Virgin Mary? And other such Catholic dogma...
Suddenly the hooded face looked upwards. Well... no. What had actually happened was that the head had skipped upwards. One moment it was looking downwards, the next it was staring, burning, into Ben's face. His heart, already moving, blurred past a few beats. The face was concealed by shadow, yet Ben could still sense the man's eyes. How deep... and how dark... they must have been.
Benjamin attempted to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth. It was as if something, some force, was blocking his words in his throat. He attempted to move but it was as if the brain signals were being intercepted.
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