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The candles burned fierce high above on spindled columns as they worked their magic to cast a spell of unimaginable evil.  They called upon the earth, the moon, and Mother Nature to aide them in their magical dealings.

The wind rose in gale force, the lightning split the midnight sky, the earth shook as they summoned the spirits of both heaven and hell to bring forth a life. The moon filled red with blood.  They stood encompassed by fire as the wind tore through them in possession.  Even the heavy rain could not stop this wicked flame.

As they locked their hands together the ground below them opened up and consumed the fire they had lit.  When they unlocked their hands mother earth and all the forces of nature, heaven, and hell had spewed out its mouth and given birth to a child, a child of darkness. And so the evil began beneath the ginger moon.

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It was cool that night and not just because of winter’s toll, there was something in the air, a feeling or presence of some sort, unsettling and forgettable.

I remember hearing the downstairs door close shortly after one a.m., thinking it as my father as he would often come home late.  I was relieved of his arrival and began to settle in the evening.

Robin, our withered yet watchful canine was very restless and uneasy.  She would jump on and off the bed each time looking curiously at the doorway.  “Robin go to sleep” I yelled several times. She peered out of the darkness of my room through the doorway into the hall, walking cautiously, where she stood at the ledge of the stairway with an iniquitous pitch in her voice.  All the while staring towards the base of the stairwell.

I then heard the din of each stop as they were aged yet revealing of their traveler.  Drawing nearer to the top of the stairway, Robin became very rampant, circling the room like I’ve never seen before.  Everything fell into a dead silence, a cessation of sound, all but the whine on the wind and the lifeless branches colliding against the frozen windowpanes. There in my doorway he stood.

A faceless silhouette of what was thought to be my father.  “Dad, what are you doing” I asked, and with no reply he entered my room. I realized then that this figure was not my father, but who?

The room became predominantly cool my breath as thick as fog, my skin turning numb from the cold, my eyes begin to burn and shed tears.

It was next to me at this point, shivering and afraid as I kept thinking this cannot be real.

I felt it reach across to the pillow beside me, unable to move I lay powerless to its will, my voice seized to my attempts to scream, all the while Robin laid motionless at its feet.  The night grew more sinister, and threatening than imaginable as he covered my face, pressing harder and harder. I could feel life slipping away from me.

Reaching out in all directions for something, anything to save me but nothing was there.  My last breath upon me, fighting to keep it contained, death had come for me, and in the instant my will to survive had diminished and the fight was over. The pillow then lay lightly over me like nothing ever happened.

Confused and scared I ran frantically into my mothers room where I sought safe refuge for the remainder of nights last hours.

I awoke the following morning to the sounds of children playing and laughing about outside on an unseasonably warm Decembers day.  It had brought a smile to my face and released my thoughts into freedom again.

Rolling out of bed in an undirected but steady stagger I made my way out of my parents room and into the hallway.  Slowly pressing forward to the door of my room with revere in every stop, I enter.  Looking cautiously I notice that the bed had been made and the clothes that were once scattered randomly about were neatly folded on the bed.

Making my way downstairs wit