When the Sun Goes Down--Chapter One

Chapter One

In the distance, there was a sound. What that sound was, sixteen-year-old Tyler Bradford wasn't sure, but it sounded wrong. A human cry? No, no that wasn't it. A dog, perhaps? A loud, screeching cat? No, that wasn't it either. Nothing he knew could make that sound, that horrible, screeching, ear-splitting scream-like sound. He just couldn't figure it out. What could it be? What could possibly make that noise? He knew he just had to find out...

...and that was his first mistake.

He took off running down the street, curious as to what that noise was, where it was coming from, and what kind of animal was making it. What would cause an animal, any animal really, to make a noise such as that? His heart pumping in anticipation, he darted around a corner and kept running as the animal gave another screech.
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Logan Gray looked up from his newspaper when he heard a screeching sound off in the distance. Thousands of possibilities raced through his mind of what the sound could be, but he knew in his heart exactly what it was, and it made his skin crawl. With a heavy, tired sigh, he rose to his feet and tossed his newspaper to the side as he continued on his way to the hallway by the front door and slid into his black jacket. It wasn't especially cold tonight, what with the light wind chill, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a tad bit nippy. It was cold enough for him to want a jacket, just incase things didn't go in his favor...

He shook those thoughts out of his head. He knew what he was going up against, he knew what to do to stop it, he would be just fine. But still...just incase. It couldn't hurt. Better to be safe than sorry, he knew. He had learned that the hard way, and boy was he sorry. Shrugging those thoughts aside, he thought of the words he would need to say.

He checked the pockets of his jacket and found what he needed: a small spray bottle that would surely end this evening quickly, or at least that was what he was hoping for. As he stepped out of the door, he wasn't ready to see someone already bounding down the street in the direction of the noise. His eyes wide, a warning went off in his head. 'No, it can't...stupid kid, don't!' he thought frantically.

"No, kid, don't!" he shouted, darting down the sidewalk, but he knew in his heart that he was already to late. 'No, no...please, a little more time and I can reach him...' he thought desperately, but he could feel the danger...coming closer, and closer...coming for the boy. 'No!'

A black mist surrounded the boy, and Logan squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the scream coming from the boy's lips. The scream, nothing but a terrified, pained shout really, rose into the air and made Logan's hair stand on end as he willed the sound away. That scream would be imprinted in his mind forever.

'I can still save him,' he thought with a touch of desperation, as he bounded down the sidewalk once more, gripping the spray bottle tightly in his right hand. He forced himself to remember the incantation and to push back the feeling of dread. He would get there in time to save the child. He had to. He couldn't accept the alternative, that he was too late the kid--the poor kid--was dead. He wouldn't.

Before he even made it to the mist and the child who was writhing on the ground in agony and begging to God that it would end, he was shouting out the words to the ancient incantation and holding the bottle out in front of him to spray when he was ready. When he got closer and could smell that horrible smell of tar and grime that he was all-too-familiar with, he sprayed. The mist hesitated, it seemed, and faded away. A screech sounded from somewhere in the distance. The threat was subdued, he knew, but not stopped. No, never stopped...only subdued, sent away for the time being.

He dropped down beside the boy and gingerly felt for a pulse, pressing against the kid's pale neck. He damn near fainted with relief when he felt a slow but steady beat underneath his fingers. "You're okay, kid," he murmured, more to reassure himself more than anything. "You're okay." He gently got the boy into a sitting position and put an arm behind his back and one under his knees, lifting him up bridal style. The kid's head lolled weightlessly against his chest, and he felt a flicker of concern, but brushed it aside as he stumbled down the sidewalk toward his house. "What were you thinking?" he chided the unconscious child. "Do you have a death wish?"

He swallowed as a memory popped into his mind, a memory of fear and pain, a memory of helplesslness, of anger and hate, of darkness and tears...He pushed it back almost as a physical effort, and juggled the kid in his arms as he twisted the doorknob to his house and let himself in, kicking the door shut behind him after he was done. Murmuring something beneath his breath, the light in the hallway flickered on, and he kicked his shoes off before entering the living room. There, he placed the kid on the couch and took a look around.

"What a pig stie," he grumbled, and flicked his wrist, murmuring something as his eyes gave a brief twinkle. Books lifted from the floor and flew over to a shelf, sliding into place. His forgotten newspaper lifted into the air and folded neatly before flying over to him. He grabbed the paper and put it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "There. That's better."

Sighing, he turned back to the kid and gently slapped his cheek, muttering for him to wake up. The boy didn't, of course, and that made him give a low groan. Who knew what kind of damage had been inflicted into the child before he'd gotten there...the thought made him shiver.

"Hey, kid? C'mon, wake up. You're okay, just open your eyes. C'mon, you can do it. That's it," he said soothingly when the boy's eyes fluttered briefly before sliding closed. "Wake up."

The boy opened his eyes and peered at him dubiously. "Who..." he rasped, and Logan knew his throat was probably terribly dry. "Who are you?"

"Uh, Logan," he murmured, already looking around the room. If the boy's throat was sore, damage had already been done... "You feeling okay, kid?"

"Tyler," the boy corrected automatically.

Logan sighed. "Tyler. Whatever. You feeling okay? Your throat sore, your back or chest hurt? How about your head?"

Tyler looking at him for a long moment from where he lay on his back on the couch. "...Throat's dry...not sore," he rasped. Logan rolled his eyes. "Chest...sore...back aches...head is..." he closed his eyes. "Hurts."

Logan sighed in sympathy. "I think I know what will help. Can you sit up for a few minutes?"

The boy, Tyler, nodded. "Sure..." He slowly sat up, with a bit of difficulty. Logan nodded in satisfaction and left the room. Tyler looked around while he was gone, and frowned. He didn't know where he was...who was Logan? Why was he hear? Last thing he could remember was...a scream...his? Maybe...

Logan came back into the room a few minutes later with a glass of what looked like tea in it. He handed it to him and said, "Here, this should help."

Tyler looked at the tea as he gripped the glass and peered at Logan suspiciously before drinking it down in one gulp. "Gross," he commented, taking deep breaths to help rid himself of the taste.

Logan nearly smirked. "Yeah. I know. It sucks." He sat down on the couch next to Tyler and looked him over slowly. "Better?" he asked after a moment. Tyler paused.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Logan shrugged and said, "What did you think you were doing? Running down the sidewalk like that."

Tyler stiffened. "I...I heard a noise. I didn't know...didn't know what it was. I was...curious," he stammered.

Logan sighed. "Curious. Okay. Do you know what happened?"

"...I don't know. I felt pain and everything was dark, and it was so cold...then I was here. What happened?" He peered at Logan with piercing green eyes that wanted answers.

Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "The thing that was screeching. It's called...it's called a Larth. A Larth is a creature that..." He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "A creature that...well, basically, it's like a mixture between a human and a cat. It has...human features, like a face and everything, but..." he shrugged. "Anyway...are you following me?"

Tyler had gone stiff and quiet. He gave a slow nod. "I...I guess so," he murmured doubtfully. "You sure you're...not on something?" At the look Logan gave him, he backed off. "Okay, maybe not...sorry. Keep going."

"A Larth lures its prey in by...by screeching. Certain animals will respond to it and...and come running. Humans tend to get curious at times, and...and it attacks them with a black mist, like it did you. It kills them, eats them...and then, well, that's it."

Tyler had gone white. "But...but I'm still alive!"

"I saved you," Logan murmured, eyes closed, a headache forming behind his closed eyelids. "I know Larths. I kill them, when I can. I was going to hunt it down and everything, but...I saw you, running...I shouted for you to stop. You didn't hear me. Then it attacked. I knew I had to do something, so...so here we are." He gestured around at the room in general.

"...I...thank you," Tyler murmured.

Logan shrugged. "You feeling better?"

"...Yeah."

"Good. You can stay here tonight, if you want. The couch is kind of comfy, if you want to sleep there, or you can sleep in the guest room. It's up to you."

"I...thank you. Really. You saved my life."

Logan shrugged again, not all for people showing him gratitude. "It's what I do," he muttered, rising to his feet. Tyler got to his feet as well. "Guest room?"

Tyler nodded. "Please."

Logan nodded and led the way up the stairs and to the right, where the guest room was. "If you need me or anything, I'm just down the hall. Shout or something."

Tyler nodded again. "Thanks. Again." His eyes were sincere.

Logan nearly winced. "Yeah. Do you need to call anyone...?"

Tyler's eyes narrowed and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, if not a bit too quickly. "I don't."

Logan nodded. "Okay. But if you think you do, later, the phone's downstairs in the kitchen. There's another in my room, if you would prefer to use that one."

Tyler shook his head. "No. Thanks, but that's okay." He smiled slowly. "Thank you."

Logan sighed and nodded slowly before he left the room and shut the door behind him, stalking off down the hallway.
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Logan was awoken hours later to the sound of screaming. Instantly bolting awake, he fled his room and darted down the hallway, already knowing where the screaming was coming from. He quickly entered the guest room and stopped dead in his tracks. Books, papers, and pencils were flying around the room, and he just barely managed to duck in time as a book flew at his head. Something slammed into his back, hard, and he went down. Something then slammed into his head, knocking it to the ground, and everything went black for a minute, before he managed to clear his vision and dart to his feet.

He dove toward the bed and grabbed Tyler's shoulder. "Tyler, Tyler wake up," he shouted as the books flew at his head again. "Wake. Up!" He shook him harshly as a book collided with his head. His grip on Tyler left and he slid to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as the other books and papers and pencils darted toward him. Oh shit, he thought. The kid thinks I'm a threat. "Wake up!" The books dropped. Darkness consumed his vision, and his mind went blank.
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Tyler's eyes snapped open at the sound of someone's voice, and he quickly shot into a sitting position, his heart racing as he thought back to his dream, his terribly nightmare. He felt cold all over and his head was killing him, but he could have sworn he heard Logan calling his name... "Logan?" he murmured, looking around. He moved to get out of bed, but his feet hit something solid...and warm. Gasping, he looked down and--"Logan!" He jumped out of bed and dropped down next to the motionless figure, books all around them. Why? He wasn't sure.

He didn't really care, either, not at the moment.

He lightly slapped Logan's cheek. "Wake up," he murmured with a touch of fear. Why was Logan in here, why was he unconscious, why was his forehead bleeding like that? Why were books all over the room, and pencils and paper? He chewed on his lower lip for a long moment before he grabbed Logan's shoulder and shook him."Wake up," he said again, louder this time. "Wake up, Logan. Please. This isn't funny. What's going on? Wake up."

It wasn't working. Logan never moved, never made a sound. Why wasn't he waking up, what the hell had happened? Tyler didn't know, and that was scaring him.

"Wake up!" he shouted, shaking him harshly. "Wake up, wake up, wake up! Please wake up! ....This isn't funny....wake up."

Logan's eyes fluttered open and he let out a groan as he rolled over onto his side and held his head. "What hit me?" he grumbled, prying his eyes open after they slid shut. "Oh yeah. A whole friggin' bookcase."

"Are you okay? What happened?" Tyler asked, concerned.

Logan's gaze fluttered to him. "You. How dare you make books fly at me," he growled, but his voice was teasing.

Tyler was confused. "What do you mean? You think I...no, I wouldn't!" he said, shaking his head. He wouldn't hurt Logan. He wouldn't hurt anyone.

Logan sighed. "I know, I know. I'll explain later, okay, once the room stops spinning and I don't have dark spots in my vision and my head isn't freakin' fit to burst." He closed his eyes.

He was quiet for so long that Tyler began to worry. "Logan?" he whispered. There was no answer. Fear spiked within the teen, and he gripped Logan's shoulder tightly. "Logan?" his voice was louder this time.

Logan's eyes slid open. "M'okay," he murmured. "Headache. I'll be fine." He forced himself to sit up, though Tyler could see it was a struggle for him.

"...You okay?"

"Sure," Logan said non-too reassuringly. "Perfectly fine."

Tyler wasn't convinced, but let it slide. For now.

"What happened?" he asked.

Logan looked at him. "...Kid..." he began, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. "I think...you're a wizard."

Tyler stared. "What?" he gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.