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Late one fall evening, two boys were watching the stars up high

A stranger appeared out of the mist of the field, and approached slowly

Passing us by on his way, we knew him not; suspicion in us rose.

We followed him close, but not too close

Tall he was, wearing a cloak of black with a hood as large as myself

We knew the path's dead end was close up ahead

He disappeared, then reappeared in the mist

Finally cornered, he turned around

Frozen, terrified, I looked ahead, not old enough to understand

The eyes I saw were not of human kind

He looked away; my legs were paralyzed with fright

Then, the sound of an animal was heard from behind

Impossible! He was gone. We'd only flinched for half a second

We stood there alone, deep in the dark woods

A cold sentience of dread and timorousness grew

My consciousness had foretold the augury of loss

My mother: Dead

My father: Dead

My best friend: Dead

He never spoke.