• With the full moon so high in the crystal night sky, a frost was falling upon the grounds of the Nuit Cathèdrale of late October. Not even the wind could cut into the crisp air and break the slowly freezing environment. Long blades of grass froze in place and moved only to quiver in the still of night, as if displeased with the iced scenery. The steel bars of a deep noir black, creaked under the tightening layers of ice and cried out for breathe, with no way of gaining what they so desired. The windows were dark, with no light inside the great, ancient monument to appease the eye; though, these eyes needed no light.

    Within the cathedral, shadows swarmed and bulged, as though a thousand tiny candles were being blown by the wind, but with no candles to partake in such an unnatural event there was no natural explanation. The sound of slow, yet impatient footsteps echoed from the walls and chilled the air with each repetition. A ringing filled the air, growing louder and louder with every step. The steps were moving, up the centre, past the pews and all the way to the altar, where the large organ sat, pipes reaching up to the circular window high above from which the moon shone, sending a long, pure white beam of light to the ground. The steps finally came to a halt, stopping only when the figure stood perfectly centred in the circle of light. The head tilted back, allowing the black hood overshadowing the stranger’s features, fell back a little; slipping to reveal pale skin, made almost translucent in the beautiful light. As the head continued to tilt back and stare up into that window, the covering completely fell and draped over sharp, pointed shoulders. Dishevelled hair was free from its dark constraints and flourished, spraying out a fountain of white over the shoulders and framing the equally white face. With a tight jaw and almost chiselled features, the male continued to stare upward, the ringing no longer growing louder, but remained at an ear splitting level. The crimson eyes showed no sign of strain or discomfort, shimmering in the brilliant light before swiftly falling upon the organ, raised above ground level as though it were better, more deserving.

    “Ch.” The sound came so unexpectedly from snarling lips. A step forward, the sound grew louder. Another step; louder. A third step, the light no longer tarnished with his neither body nor shadow, and still the dreadful ringing grew louder. Up the three, small steps he went. One step at a time, echoing through the room, even though his heeled boots trod on carpet. Reaching the altar, he moved ever closer to the instrument set before the hall. Staring down at the black and white keys with such discontent; the crimsoned orbs trailed up, over the wooden frame, up to the pipes that trembled under the strain of that terrible ringing. From under his cloak, a hand raised and out stretched, pointed a single, slender finger at the old metal, the feeling of static tingling at the end of the extremity. His eyes stared unblinkingly, shimmering lifelessly before he took a shallow breathe, and touched the finger to the cold, rested texture.

    An almighty screech blew through the cathedral, sending shockwaves of wind blasting from the organ and blow open the doors, the sound of heavy oak being torn at the hinges and forced to move in a way it had never moved. The figure stood, unaffected and unnerved by the chaos surrounding him, and remained with his finger on the organ, staring at it intensely as the world around him cried out as though in agony. As the air began to tremble, the large stain glass windows shattered all at once, sending shards of sharp glass hurtling in all directions. Not a single piece was left in its original place, but instead scattered over the floor as the screeching continued. Eyes narrowed sharply, before the hand was flung away from the instrument.

    The hall fell silent. The air became chilled. The figure remained still. Perfectly.

    There was silence, and stillness. Only when a shy breeze, did a sickening and cruel grin spread across his lips, revealing sharp canines. Turning on his heal, he pulled the hood back up over his head and strode hurriedly to the open doors, light beaming in through them and lighting up the walkway. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn back. He simply grinned.