Darkness

Previously

…The figure emerged from the trees, a silhouette against the faint moonlight. The mask, a featureless expanse of black, was more terrifying in its anonymity than any grotesque visage. He moved with a chilling purpose, his gaze, unseen but felt, fixed on the locket. The black rose, a stark splash of crimson against the night, was clutched in his hand. He paused, a predator assessing its prey, before taking a slow, deliberate step towards the mill entrance. The trap was set. And the hunter had walked right into it.