The Night

The Night

As I slowly walked through the city, feeling my padded leather shoes slide occasionally over the smooth cobblestone. I was confused as why the locals strays were not out padding around like usual. Maybe it's later than I though it was? As I continued down the road I began to become more and more apprehensive and nervous. I knew I shouldn't have stayed out this late, but I was having fun and lost myself in the dancing and merriment. I knew the rumours and story about people who stayed out passed the late hour, stories about The Jester. The thing that killed people on the street only to leave them where they feel to be found in the morning. I shivered as I thought about them and found that both my hands had wandered to the twin daggers on my belt. I drew them slowly, hearing the sliding sound of metal and gripped them softly. I had to consciously refrain myself from twitching my head from side to side at any sound that pierced the silence of the night. I saw the layer of fog sprawled across the road and willed it to part, allowing my passage without the inhalation of the gasses. 'Why is it that i can do that? Make the mist move just by thinking about it?' I thought. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and kept walking.

I stopped with a jolt, as I heard a rock jump across the rough surface of the road. My heart rate spiked and I felt the hilts in my hand grow hot as I gripped them tighter and tighter. I spun as I thought I heard faint laughter and bells. Frightened, I slowly backpedaled away from the sounds while scanning the mist for any signs of a figure. After I thought I travelled far enough to avoid any kind of encounter, straightened my hunched back and turned with my eyes and head still pointed towards the original source of noise.

As my chin brushed the top of my shoulder, I froze. I felt a presence standing in front of me. My eyes began to slowly track to whoever it was. As my eyes and head faced the figure in front of me, my nerves went crazy. I felt my body grow ice cold and then heat back up. This cycle repeated many times a second and I looked at the figure. All I saw from it hidden in the mist was two orbs of shining, ice blue hanging where its eyes should be and hair with small round objects at the end of a bunch of strands that fell to the shoulders. All I could manage to do was utter a small whimper. I knew immediately it was The Jester, as it tilted its head slightly to the side as it heard my frightened whine. My mind flew into a blur. What should I do!? Do I run? Do I fight? Or is tonight the night that I pay for my insolence and sceptical demeanour about the rumours of a laughing demon? No, I thought. I will fight. If I can get this...thing tonight, I won't be treated as much of an outcast anymore. I will be a city hero! Tonight it will pay for the people it has killed! I thought, tightening my grip on the daggers and steeling my resolve. I paused and took a deep breath.

I lashed out with my right hand at its throat, aiming to cut the wind pipe and the surrounding arteries and veins. The blade passed through the figure's neck without any resistance. I inhaled sharply. What if it really is a demon? After a few seconds had passed, I was showered with liquid from the figure's body as it slumped to the ground. I paused briefly and then dropped to its side, filled with exhilaration and joy for finally getting the murderer.

As I leaned down to look at it more closely, any of my previous feelings were swept away and replaced with dread, shock and horror. It wasn't The Jester as I had thought. It was Lisa. As I dropped further to the ground with my hands placed firmly to stop me swaying, I saw her blood on my hand and the cut that had maimed her soft, silky skin of her neck. My muscles contracted and I was locked in place, staring at her face and neck. The orbs I had seen as inhuman eyes were just her glasses and the round balls that I took to be bells of a jester’s hat were just the beads she had plaited into her hair that very afternoon as we sat out by the oak tree by the lake.
As I started to sweat, while continuing to stare at her face unable to turn away, a lump formed in my throat.

With a cry I lurched backwards onto my knees and a deep wailing scream erupted from my chest. As I continued to cry over my murder of my friend, I heard a high-pitched, manic laughter float over the mist. That laughter pierced my soul, and made my misery tenfold worse.

The Jester had struck again...