A Shadows night

       A fire crackled and sparks flew from a log as it split in half. It was the darkest part of the night and shadows hung thick over all the stones of the castle. All was still and silent but for the shadow that moved swiftly along the edge of the east courtyard; directly toward the center of the castle. It glided over the ground, melting in and out of the deeper shadows of doorways and alleys. Nun of the sentries noticed the moving shadow, and those few that it pasted especially close to only felt a cold shiver run up their spines; a shiver that few had ever felt and fewer that lived to remember.
     This was not a thing of good, no, not even all the shadows it wallowed in could compare with the blackness of its heart, stained forever; the task it sought to complete this night was proof of that.
     It finely made it to the bass of the tower, just as rain began to fall from the cloud laden night sky. The thing cringed as the first drops fell. It loathed the rain, even feared it, and it would have found a place to hide from it. But the fear of rain, was not as great as the fear of the man who had sent it out from its home to kill. Even with its primitive mind it knew when to fear something above all else.
     It made sure that nun of the sentries could see it before stepping away from the wall of the tower. Forty feet up the wall, the first window protruded from the stone; a gaping black maw in the night shadows. The thing hunkered down on all fours and wings burst from its back; there span was seven feet. Every muscle tensed, its wings gave one mighty thrust downward spraying water in a wide sphere. Like an arrow it vaulted up through the torrential rainfall to the window. Forked claws dug in to the stone of the windows ledge, holding the thing in place for a moment while it listened for any sound from within the room.
     Soft breathing reached its pointed ears, it longed to slip in to the room and silence the sound with one motion of its arm; it was so hungry. But fear and fear alone stayed its need to feed, this was not the one it had been sent to kill and it had to finish its task first. Once again its wings spread and it sprung from the window to the next above it. It did this many times before stopping, nothing but darkness surrounded it now and it heard nothing but the constant sound of rain drumming on stone.
     The window it clung to now did not lead in to a room but to a hallway. Its slitted nostrils opened and closed as it drew in the smells of the castle. No one had pasted through the hallway sense the early morning. Silently its wing folded against its back and it slipped in through the window, as it landed it snapped its wings back out and beat them once sending a gust of wind down both ways of the hallway snuffing out the few torches that lit the hallway; sending everything in to darkness. It turned to the right and ran up the hallway until it came to a circle flight of stairs leading up. The smells that wafted down were those of a bedchamber, its black heart began to race soon it would savor the kill. It started up the stairs.
     At the top of the stairs two guards stood watch at the door in to the room; it could sense them just out of site. The light from torches scarcely made it around the bend in the stairs but still the thing moved back until it was in total darkness. The ceiling of the staircase was ten feet from the steps, with its razor sharp claws it took it no time at all to climb the wall and then hang from the ceiling. Once it had a good grip in the stone it took its right hand and dragged the claws over the stone making a horrible screeching sound, its color changed to a similar shade as the stone as it flattened against the ceiling; now it had only to wait.
     A few moments later one of the men cautiously came down the stairs; a torch in one of his hands and his sword in the other. Just a little closer, screamed the things mind.
     “What was it Troe?” said the man that was still at the top of the stairs. Troe turned to reply, and it cost him his life.
     “Troe?... come on Troe answer me will you.”
     The thing leaped over the body of its victim and with the speed of an Eagle diving to catch it’s pray it flew up the stairs. The man at the door did not even have time to scream before it was over and all of it had been done without a sound uttered.
     Now that it was at the door it could not stop moving forward. Its leathery scaled fingers wrapped around the handle of the door and in a swift motion it turned the knob and slipped in to the room. The hinges of the door had been well kept and again not a sound was made as it closed the door. There across the room in the bed were two people, their chests rising and fall slowly as they could only when one was asleep. In an instant it was at the side of the bed standing over a man, its black eyes glinted as it lifted its hand above his throat and struck; it was done with the same silence as had fallowed every movement of the thing that night.
     When morning came the dawn was one of blood red and from the tallest tower of the castle the sobs of a woman could be heard by every man and women of the castle. The king of Tobrone was dead.