It was a dark house on a silent hill. Winged beasts circled high above the mansion estate, the sound of their beating wings carrying across the wind. They were not birds of prey, precisely. More than likely the creatures were scavengers. Flying as they were the avians possessed a clear and perfect view of the grounds below. It were almost as if they patrolled the sky.
Rumour had it that the docking bay was haunted. What a ridiculous notion that was. Freighters often docked there, and passengers wandered harmlessly. There hadn't been an incident in years. And yet there was an incident. Once. It was a very long time ago, now. Such things were likely stories - myth, really. No matter how many times it ran through someone's mind, it came no closer to fading. Shadows shifted within the bay. Whispers crept through the walls, and a cool breeze flowed through from without, sending a chill through to bone. And, then, there was a scream of terror.
It was a dark house on a silent hill. Winged beasts circled high above the mansion estate, the sound of their beating wings carrying across the wind. They were not birds of prey, precisely. More than likely the creatures were scavengers. Flying as they were the avians possessed a clear and perfect view of the grounds below. It were almost as if they patrolled the sky. Oddly, these birds seem to be circling around something as they made the rounds of their chosen territory. A disonant symphony for the nose oozes through the air, the smell of burnt wood and rotting flesh, the sickly sweet odor mixing with the acrid smell drawing in a tantalizingly horrible manner. Surely there was a purpose of some sort, but what could this be?
It was way past time for him to be back at the ship. Three hours, twenty-nine minutes, and fifty-four seconds past time to be exact. Irksomely the captain of the Grey Gelfer was a stickler for those exceedingly minor details, like wanting the exact second that any of the crew did something. This came a the cost of efficiency, but Noral was apparently not bothered by this in the least, so long as they were still profitable. The corridors Gind walked along were fairly populous, but growing sparser as he took back ways. These were rather dingy, the "white" walls now more of a dusty granite color. I guess I'll have to do it. I'm already too late as it is. The "it" was of course traversing they "Haunted" docking bay. It was a local supersition, and nothing had happened in long enough for the story to have degraded to myth. But for some reason it still persisted. Decisively making a left turn at the next intersection, the male gand walked down a corridor that grew steadier less taken care of. Despite the time since the last incident had occured, it was still nigh impossible to keep a cleaning crew for the area. Many just flat out refused to be there during the hours it was required. Especially alone, or in only pairs. The owners of the starport weren't willing to pay for more, so steadily the area declined. It was still in active use though, as seen by the customs officials booths. Mainly it was smugglers and other sorts like that which used the area now, but it wasn't so much a big deal. They all minded their business, and nothing untoward had happened in a long time. The unwritten rules applied here far more visciously than in other places. Suddenly there was an ear piercing scream. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere off to the left, down a distinctly darker hallway. Oddly there didn't appear to be any others that had even heard the scream. Trying to ignore it, his curiousity got the better of him just as he was about through the area. Five more minutes can't really hurt. And if someone's really in trouble, maybe I could help? Sighing, Gind headed off towards the darkened area, having no clue what he would find upon arriving there.
Arrik walked silently along the path, minding his own business. Mere meters ahead of him walked a man clothed in a deep black robe, his entire head concealed within the hood that he wore. Arrik had been following the man since they left the cantina thirty standard minutes ago. The man turned to his right down an alley that led off to a place that Arrik had never been before. Arrik hesitated, waiting a few moments to follow; the alley looked all but abandoned, and it would most definitely look suspicious if he were to turn right away. Once he saw that the man took a turn out of the alley, Arrik followed. Arrik made sure to bring his blaster pistol out of his hip holster, and held it at shoulder level. He crept silently, and peered around the corner. He noticed that the man had walked into a docking bay. There were freighters docked for the night, as well as a few small yachts and personal air vehicles. There were many different kinds of species walking around, but he could not spot a man in an all black cloak. He holstered his weapon, not wanting to draw attention to himself, and moved forward. The further Arrik walked into the docking bay, the more scared he grew. He could not help but notice movement out of the corner of his eye and, when he turned to look, his hand by his weapon, there was nothing there. The breeze that swept through added to the disturbing feeling he that continued to grow within him. An awful thought formulated in his thoughts; the docking bay was haunted. Arrik nearly lunged out of his skin when he heard a horrifying scream come from around a corner. He instantly went for his blaster, and peered around to see if any of the others wandering around had heard it. However, everyone seemed to have disappeared. Arrik took a deep breadth, and crept around the corner, keeping his weapon at the ready. When he turned the corner, he said, "CorSec police!"
