No Dialogue: short (Lol) Story
It was early, not early enough for the sun to awaken so it could bestow the city with its radiant warming rays, no, instead a sharp crescent moon hung in the murky sky accompanied by a superfluity of stars, their heavenly light accentuating the black jagged skyline of the metropolis. A mustached man wearing a gray suit anxiously glanced down at his watch. He frowned and adjusted the metal briefcase that was pressed tightly against his chest. From the corner of his eye, a willowy silhouette materialized. His eyes widened slightly. The stranger graced him with its startling presence. From head to toe, the figure was donned in white, its face surreptitiously hidden beneath a hood. Puzzled, he raised an eyebrow. A sylphlike hand emerged from the pallid clothing, it motioned for him come closer. He shook his head. The pale hand clinched into a fist. The man glared then turned away. Coolly, the form coasted quietly but swiftly forward. He began to run; however, white was already enveloping him. The briefcase clattered. Prostrate, the man sputtered, desperately seeking placation and more importantly air. The figure shifted its white hood to reveal lips curled into an evenly roguish and vile grin. He screamed silently..