#1

            Strung together by large loops of idiosyncrasies. It was July and it was dark. It was hotter than any hell Hector could have imagined. 

            The wax could've melted straight off his freshly parted mustache and he would have just stood there in the same agony he's always been in this time of year.

            The sun, long set on the dizzying horizon had burned it's final rays into his useless mind like the ugly raised scars still apparent on his hands.

            This was a night that was meant to happen. There was never a question as to any other theory.

           Walking away had never been an option and considering it now was only a wasted effort on everyone's part, especially Hectors.

          Bodies die. Minds wander into an ever expanding universe where nothing really ever existed anyway. What was once a recollection was now only a phantogram. And an ugly one at that.

           Lizards with longer tails than normal had more sense to run than Hector had.

            Looking around all you see are trees; tall, dark and black. 

            Shadows rarely move on their own accord but in this space, tonight, they did. Hector saw it. It wasn't a large move. It wasn't sudden. It was gradual. Almost nonexistent; non moving. But it did move. That was certain.

            Those moments when you sit in the dark and let your eyes run off into the surroundings finally on their own to do whatever they want and then something happens, something subtle to pull them back in and think, sometimes out loud, "What the fuck was that?"

            In this dark, on this night, with the moisture that ran down the back of his spine, Hector ceased to breathe-- for he was not alone.