Shimmering, silver dust floated in the air. It was like the moon was dusting out it's craters now that it was full once more. The tiny flecks rested gently on a shadowy figure, who was also born of the moon. He flinched, but resumed his posture, for he had a great task to fulfil. There was no time to bother with rude particles.
The figure settled his cool gaze on a cozy log cabin, ignoring the waves that played with the sand, washing over it teasingly.
He started toward the cabin, barnacles digging into his bare feet, causing the stones to smear with just a little blood. He had waited for every lamp to flutter out, and now it had been quite silent for an hour or so. Hoping that everyone inside was indeed, fast asleep, he turned the knob and invited himself in.
A shadow brushed past him, annoying him slightly. His aid had come, but they were late and terribly un-causionary... at least by his standards. It was stressful enough without having to worry about his shadows.
One of the shadows looked up at him, it seemed pleased with its self, the naive thing. He had come to know what shadows were feeling, though they had no facial expressions. They were not very intelligent beings, but were surprisingly loyal. Like dogs, of Earth... but loyaler.
“Which is for us?” A shadow whispered between his ears- excited. The bloody thing.
He glared at it, and it shrunk behind him. “This way,” he replied, stepping down the hall.
They came to a door with a note scribbled in Crayon that read: “KEEP OUT, Brandon, or I will KILL YOU” Thankfully no one in their group was named Brandon, so they entered. The girl was sleeping soundlessly at one end of the room, her breaths keeping time with his heart beat. She was bigger than what he thought she'd be, and yet smaller as well. She had a wispy quality about her, he noticed, as if some illness of this world was upon her. He wondered which. Cancer? Diabetes... Influenza? He was not aware of what the quality of the diseases on Earth were, and what effects they had on their host.
Her sandy hair gleamed from the stray rays that had sneaked in her bedroom window. And especially up close he realized why they had chosen her: The moon was indeed found of this one, for reasons they would have to discover for themselves.
He knelt at the head of her bed, and instructed his shadows to take their places. Two of them stood on her left, two on her right, and one at her feet. As he slid a cold hand over her lips, he whispered a bitter prayer:
“Let her one day forget all she loves.”