It’s twilight.

She walks past the park on her way home. It’s been a long day, and the cars make her uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as the way the wind keeps swinging the tops of the trees. Almost as uncomfortable as she feels as the cold of night sets in. She pulls her thin trench coat around her tightly. She passes the playground. For a moment, she sees a young girl on the swings. But the girl looks up, and in a blink, she is gone. She worries her lip; was the child there to begin with? The wind is loud, but not loud enough to cover the crunching footsteps on the gravel path behind her. She can’t tell how close or how far; she walks faster.

The duck pond is devoid of fowl. Even the birds are asleep. The water ripples, and looks for all the world like a dangerous sea in a storm. The footsteps increase in speed, to match her. She glances over her shoulder; was that a man, or a trick of the fading light?

She reaches the end of the walking path. The city lights shine in front of her, warm and welcoming. She is safe now.

A ghostly caress across her hip; cold, soft lips on the nape of her neck. She doesn’t have time to scream, before the night swallows her whole.