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That she was dead was not in doubt

“Her name was Samantha Early”

A voice!

I spun around, raisingfists Adrenaline chased away the lethargy of dread as instinct took over

He was a boy, or a young man He stood a dozen feet away and did not move toward me or flinch at my upraised fists

He was tall and thin His face was pale as a ghost, pale almost to translucence, and made all the whiter by the black hair that framed it

He wore a black coat that fell to ray shirt His pants were black, and his shoes seeh they were dusty The buttons of his coat were silver but not brightly polished Each was a tiny skull, no bigger than a hazelnut

On his right hand was a silver ring in a shape I could only vaguelya sword

The other ring, the one on his left hand, was a face contorted in unilances it seeh the face was animated, alive

I had as well the impression of tattoos at wrist and neck in the few visible patches of skin

His eyes were the only color in that monochromatic picture They were blue They were a blue I had never seen before in any human eye His eyes were the turquoise of the Mediterranean, like so from a travel poster of a Greek island

I wanted to ask him where I was, but that would have made me seee ofI could pull off So instead I asked the question that was inevitable

“Who are you?”

He looked at me and I had to force myself not to turn away He looked at me and I felt quite exposed suddenly, as if his eyes were seeing the things I showed no one I fought an urge to squirm, but still my shoulders hunched forward, and s labored to take in breath so that my nostrils flared

All of it was beyond my ability to control