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When Mr, Forkle arrived at the park around midnight, he wasn't expecting anyone to be there. But as he walked across the wide bridge over the river that ran through the park, he saw the figure standing on the other side, lamp light soaked over the figure's shadow, but he still couldn't see who the figure was.
"Who's there?" Called Mr, Forkle, as he stopped and studied the figure. The shadowy figure moved swiftly, dissolving into the dark night. The wind picked up, and Mr, Forkle shivered. He never should've come here, he thought.
Just then, as Mr, Forkle turned to leave, the figure reappeared in the lamp light, their shadow wasn't a persons per se. It had the body of one, but at the top of their head two points spiked up, as if they were ears.
Before Mr, Forkle could move, before he could breathe or even think, the shadowy figure dashed forward straight toward him.
"Get back!" Mr, Forkle screamed, but the figure didn't listen. Or the figure couldn't understand him.
As the shadow figure draped over Mr, Forkle, cold bit through him, icy and raw. He tried to push it away, but his hands couldn't grip anything firm, they just went straight through the shadows.
"Get away from me!" Mr, Forkle yelled again, hopelessly fighting back the shadow figure. But it was useless. He couldn't get it away from him, no matter how hard he tried. And even as he screamed for help, he knew no one would hear him as it was midnight in the middle of a city park.
Mr, Forkle let out one last cry as the shadow figure enveloped him completely. He never yelled again.