As the night deepened, their conversation meandered through realms of speculation and absurdity, each theory more fantastical than the last.
Time, it seemed, was but a fleeting companion.
As the night wore on and their wallets grew lighter, they were close to parting ways.
The owner of the bar, a stout man with a perpetual scowl, approached their table. "Closing time," he grumbled, his tone brokering no argument.
Reluctantly, Gabriel and John gathered their belongings, stepping out into the cool embrace of the night.
Both friends parted ways, and Gabriel walked the streets alone.
The streets were eerily quiet, the usual bustle of the city subdued under the blanket of darkness. Gabriel's steps were unsteady, the effects of the night's indulgence evident in his gait.
Yet, amidst the tranquility, something unusual caught his eye—a faint, azure glow flickering in the distance.
The peculiar blue light began to swirl before him. At first, he thought it a trick of the alcohol, but the light grew in intensity and clarity, defying explanation.
His steps faltered when he saw it.
A flicker of blue light.
Not a streetlamp. Not a reflection. It pulsed like a heartbeat—soft, steady, unnatural.
"What the hell…?" Gabriel blinked, rubbed his eyes.
He wasn't that drunk. Maybe a little buzzed, sure, but hallucinations? No.
Yet the light moved, curling and swirling in midair, like mist caught in a cyclone. It danced just ahead of him, daring him to follow.
Had it been another occasion where he was thinking straight, he would have been long gone. But his usual caution was dulled by the alcohol's influence, and curiosity overcame him. He stepped closer to the ethereal glow.
One hand reached forward.
When he was about to touch the blue light, a strange object shot forth from the light, landing at his feet with a soft thud. A dagger. Old. Rusted. Unremarkable.
And yet…
The moment Gabriel picked it up, the metal melted. It writhed like liquid fire, slithering over his hand, seeping into his skin.
He screamed, or tried to. But no sound came.
Only searing pain.
Then—darkness.
His body pitched forward, caught in the blue glow. The moment his skin touched it, he exploded—a flash of crimson mist, his clothes dropping empty to the ground.
One breath, he existed.
The next, he was gone.
Gabriel was erased, as if something had reached out from the dark and taken him.
His clothes lay where he'd stood, soaked with a fine red mist, as if his body had been torn apart in an instant and scattered into the night.
There were no screams. No signs of struggle. Just silence—and that faint, unnatural scorch in the air, like burnt ozone and blood.
Authorities found nothing. No footprints, no fingerprints. Just fabric, damp with something that tested human...His disappearance haunted loved ones, baffled investigators, and fed the fires of urban legend.
Since then, the alley's been avoided.
Pets refuse to walk past it. Electronics flicker near it. And every so often, late at night, people still see a faint blue glow flickering in that alley. And they don't linger long.
What truly happened that night? No one knows.
And perhaps… no one ever will.