Goosebumps

The wind whistling through the trees in the heart of the forest resounded as a faint howl in her perked up ears. The chilly night air wrapped around her like a soft shroud, the hooting of nocturnal animals adding to the silky cacophony. Her arms were as pale as ever, not a trace of fear, for her night time wanderings were as oft as that of the creatures surrounding her. She had always reveled in the cold, the pitch dark, the mysterious beasts, and the feeling of becoming one with the tall, proud, foliage, not a canopy to be seen. 

An owl hooted beside her, hesitating for just a second before slowly climbing onto her outstretched palm. The owl was magnificent, she could tell, her powers of perception were getting stronger. The full moon was not more than a couple of hours away, and the residents of the green were hyperaware. 

And at last, she opened her eyes, pure rippling irises of venom, darker than black itself, her arms outstretched and wine colored sparks transforming the air. She cackled to herself, for at last she was awake, and the graveyard, was no more.

~WarriorWearingSneakers