The moonless night enveloped the community in an eerie, inky blackness, where the only sources of illumination are the sporadic, flickering bin fires that line the cracked street. The flames dance and cast long, wavering shadows across the decaying buildings.

Samuel mindlessly wandered the street alone, hearing the distant hum of laughter and the clinking of glasses. The residents, who have spilled out onto the streets, are raucously celebrating, their faces illuminated by the warm, orange glow of the fires. The air is thick with the scent of burning wood and the acrid tang of alcohol. The atmosphere had completely changed.

Some people huddle around the makeshift fires, their faces briefly illuminated by the fiery glow as they share stories and jokes, passing around bottles of alcohol. The sound of cheers and high-spirited laughter fills the night, creating a sense of camaraderie and celebration that temporarily dispels the darkness and solitude of the street.

The residents drunkenly raised their almost empty glasses as Samuel walked by, commemorating him for his efforts. He faked a short grin that vanished as soon as they weren't looking.

Samuel spotted Tahlia standing alone on the side of the street. Her right foot was up against the wall as she bitterly gazed at the festivities. Stopping in the middle of the road, Samuel wiped the dust from off his jumper and unwrinkled his clothing. Taking in a nervous deep breath, he stepped towards Tahlia.

Standing next to her, he playfully bumped into her shoulder with a large smile on his face. Tahlia's bitter frown turned into a large smile as her deep ocean eyes sparkled. "Enjoying yourself?" Samuel joked.

"Living the dream." Tahlia answered sarcastically, her eyes glancing directly into Samuel's. Her lips scrunched up trying not to laugh.

A band of people on the other side of the street were setting up their instruments. One of the members were putting together a dented drum set, another was cleaning his large cello and the last member took out a saxophone from his bag. They were clearly a jazz band.

"I've never seen the community like this." Tahlia spoke.

"Is that a bad thing or a good thing?" Samuel wondered as he watched the band laugh in unison.

Tahlia took in a deep breath, her eyes scanned the busy street. "It's bad. Really bad. The Whisperer has a hold on them. They are more brainwashed than I first thought." She answered.

The drummer of the band used his sticks to hit the high hat repeatedly. The member holding the saxophone took a step forward, his teeth yellow with large gaps in between them, yelled out, "We are Duck Soup! Praise the Whisperer!"

As the band, known as Duck Soup, began to play, the sounds of jazz enveloped the night. The drummer set the rhythm with a quick, syncopated beat, the metallic clang of the cymbals creating a sharp contrast to the warm crackling of the nearby fires. The saxophonist, with his reed instrument gleaming in the firelight, produced smooth and sultry melodies that seemed to both soothe and invigorate the gathered crowd.

The saxophone's rich, velvety tones filled the air, carrying a sense of both melancholy and hope. The notes seemed to weave through the atmosphere, a soothing balm to the minds of those who listened. Meanwhile, the cellist added a deep, resonant quality to the ensemble, the deep vibrations of his strings adding a layer of complexity to the music.

The jazz band's performance created a juxtaposition against the eerie backdrop of the night. It was as though their music held the power to temporarily make you forget the deathly darkness beyond the walls, allowing the community to briefly escape its influence and come together in a harmonious celebration.

Samuel's eyes gradually shifted to the back of Tahlia's head. Her eyes locked on the band. Samuel's hand were itching to connect with Tahlia's. His fingers nervously shook as the sound of the music muffled in his ears. His heart began to beat fast, and saliva began to build up in his mouth. As his saliva built up in his mouth, he nervously swallowed it.

Allowing a large breath of air to escape from his mouth, he took a step closer to Tahlia, touching his broad body against her petite body. His hand was millimetres away from hers. Clenching a strong fist he slowly inched closer. Unraveling his hand, his fingers stretched out towards her soft palm. His index finger slightly grazing her palm, he nervously pulled away.

Time passed by quickly and the sounds of the band dissipated from his memory. They packed up their instruments and the streets became quieter, with only the hum of distant laughter echoing through the night.

Samuel turned his body around to face Tahlia. Looking down into her eyes he spoke, "A couple of us are having some drinks tonight, if I'm right it's my birthday today. You're welcome to come along."

"I would love to." Tahlia responded with a cheerful smile.

Taking in a deep breath, Samuel gazed down at Tahlia's folded cold arms. "Give me your fucking hand." Samuel jokingly replied, relieved he had finally made a move.

Tahlia smiled, her cheeks becoming red, she reached for his hand. Samuel intertwined his fingers in between hers. His thumb slowly caressing the back of her hand as he held on tightly.

Samuel led the way along the street, walking closely beside Tahlia. A large smile grew on his lips, his sudden pleasure causing his eyes to slightly tear up.

Samuel guided Tahlia to a spacious communal table where Tony and Sage had already taken their seats. The table was littered with an assortment of beer and spirits. They settled in, their legs intimately close as they found their places. Samuel introduced Tahlia, breaking the ice.

"I'm Tony," Tony greeted with a warm, welcoming smile.

Sage chimed in, taking a leisurely sip of his beer. "Hey, I'm Sage."

Sensing Tahlia shivering in the chilly air, Samuel wrapped his arm around her, gently caressing her to generate some friction and provide her warmth.

"You must be stoked Samuel. Wish I was praised by the Whisperer." Sage excitedly spoke.

His eyes menacingly glancing towards Sage's direction, Samuel frowned slightly to show his frustration. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about that. We should just enjoy the night." He responded.

Tony sat up uncomfortably, drinking from his pint glass he stared into Samuel's eyes. After placing the glass down in front of him, Tony asked, "So, where are you from Tahlia?"

A smile growing on her face, Tahlia nervously answered, "I'm from Port Pirie. Quite far up north of Adelaide."

"Ah okay. You're both from South Australia. That's a strange coincidence." Tony laughed, his eyes interested on her story.

"Yeah it is quite interesting." Tahlia spoke lovingly glancing at Samuel. Her deep ocean blue eyes glistening from the nearby bin fire.

"What did you get up too there?" Tony wondered.

"We fished a lot. Had fresh fish almost every dinner." Tahlia spoke, remembering her past.

Samuel slowly moved his arm from around her, and moved his hand down to her thigh. He comfortably caressed her thigh, making close loving eye contact once again.

"What kind of fish did you catch?" Tony asked.

Being handed a pint of beer, Tahlia responded "We would catch Salmon, Bream and Trout mostly." Tahlia slowly glanced at Samuel and whispered, "I don't drink much."

Samuel took the beer from in front of her and took a sip, "You don't have to drink if you don't want too." He whispered into her ear. As he put the glass onto the table he rested his free hand onto her arm. Tahlia smiled as Samuel moved his hand from her thigh and intertwined his fingers in between hers, holding on tightly.

"We also hunted. Not often." Tahlia added.

"Oh so you know how to use a gun? I would be careful Samuel." Tony joked with a large smile.

Samuel laughed taking a sip of beer, "I'll keep that in mind." He responded.

The night continued on, the conversation flowing freely as the group shared stories and laughter. Samuel, did his best to make Tahlia feel welcome and at ease. Samuel's hand remained intertwined with Tahlia's, his fingers gently caressing her throughout the evening. As the hours passed, the cold night air began to take its toll, and Samuel moved a bit closer to Tahlia, seeking warmth and comfort.

Samuel found himself drawn to Tahlia in a way he had never experienced before. Every time he looked into her deep ocean-blue eyes, he felt a sense of tranquility and comfort that he had never known. Her laughter was like a melody that played in the background of his thoughts, a reminder of the joy she brought into his life. Her presence seemed to fill the spaces that had been empty for so long.

Samuel's heart began to beat differently when he was around Tahlia. It wasn't just the rhythmic thumping of blood in his veins; it was a symphony of emotions that swelled within him. He found himself thinking about her constantly.

The touch of her hand felt like an electric charge that ran through his entire being. Their fingers intertwined easily, as if they were meant to be entwined from the very beginning. Tahlia made eye contact with Samuel as once more. He slowly smiled realising his developing feelings for her. With glossy eyes Tahlia smiled back.

As the clock struck midnight, the celebrations began to wind down. The warmth of the fires and the spirited laughter of the night started to give way to a sense of exhaustion. Saying their goodbyes, in unison the four left the table, heading for a nights rest.

They both rose from the table, and Samuel, still holding her hand, guided Tahlia back towards the streets, leaving behind the remnants of the celebration. The moonless night, which had once been eerie and lonely, now felt a little less dark and solitary with their connection. Samuel's feet stumbled under each step, feeling the effects of his drinking. The two stopped at Tahlia's bed spread. She knelt down and handed Samuel the mug he had used when they shared a coffee together.

"Sorry. I wish I knew it was your birthday. I would of been more prepared." Tahlia admitted embarrassed.

Samuel took the mug from her and held it tightly in his spare hand, "I love it." He spoke staring directly into her eyes.

Still holding Tahlia's hand, Samuel looked at her with a gentle smile. "I had a great time tonight," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity.

Tahlia's eyes met his, her smile mirroring his sentiments. "Me too. Thanks for inviting me."

Samuel tightly wrapped his arms around Tahlia, lovingly hugging her closely. He rested his head on top of hers and passionately closed his eyes. "Have a good night." He spoke.

Hesitantly leaving Tahlia behind, Samuel limped down the street alone, tightly hugging his new mug to his chest. As he strolled the street, Samuel noticed the Whisperers house lights were off. Most likely he wasn't home.

A drunken idea crossed his mind. Stepping up to the door, he tried his luck. Putting his hand onto the door handle he quietly turned it. The unlocked door swung wide open with a loud creak. Glancing inside, Samuel saw a dark hallway, furnished like a regular home.

Samuel creeped inside, closing the door behind him. The house was old and pitch black. Slowly tiptoeing down the hallway, he glanced into every room, noticing a small lounge and kitchen, each room looked regular.

Finally reaching the end of the dark hallway, Samuel noticed a door which was slightly ajar. Using his hand, he pushed the door open, immediately recognising a large desk in the middle of the room. He slowly stepped inside, his eyes intriguingly darting around the room.

A metal bookshelf lined the back wall behind the desk. The bookshelf was full of clear glass jars full of mysterious white and yellow objects. Stepping closer to the back of the room, Samuel picked up one of the jars and adjusted his drunken droopy eyes.

The jars were full of teeth. Some with flesh still hanging on the root. "What the fuck." Samuel spoke to himself examining the jar closely.

Putting the jar back onto the bookshelf Samuel glanced over the other fourteen jars, all filled to the brim with pulled teeth. Stepping away from the bookshelf, Samuel noticed the Whisperers skull mask displayed on the desk. Touching the long antlers he examined the skull closely.

"You aren't allowed in here." A deep voice whispered in the dark behind Samuel.

Samuel froze in fear. His hand instantly falling to his side. The voice came from the corner of the room, and he was too frightened to turn around.

"Why are you snooping?" The deep voice asked.

"I wanted to see the Whisperer." Samuel lied standing still as a rock.

"You're talking to him." He spoke his voice sounding annoyed and bothered.

Samuel sluggishly turned around to face the corner of the room. The little light that was seeping inside shined onto the side of the Whisperer's face, only allowing Samuel to see his grim silhouette sitting in a large comfortable cushioned chair. The Whisperer's face was hidden in the dark, but Samuel could still sense he had a large grin spread across his face.

"Why do you have jars full of teeth?" Samuel wondered.

"Is that why you came to see me?" The Whisperer asked agitated.

"No. I came to thank you." Samuel lied, goosebumps spreading across his cold body.

"Thank me for what?" The Whisperer abruptly asked resting his head into his hand.

"For giving me the opportunity to be praised. I'm excited for tomorrow. I won't let you down." Samuel added to his lie, thinking on the spot.

"Why didn't you knock?" The Whisperer asked.

"The door was open." Samuel answered clearing his throat.

The Whisperer stood onto his feet. The glimmer of light reflected off of a large knife in his hand. "Never enter my home. Never." The Whisperer angrily spoke his voice sounding deeper. Samuel swallowed his own spit, fearing the worse. "I appreciate your gesture of gratitude however. Get some rest. Come morning, you'll see my power first hand." The Whisperer said putting the knife away.

"Yes father." Samuel accepted, hastily he left the room.

Almost at a full sprint, Samuel exited the house making sure he closed the door behind him. Catching his breath he looked back at the house once more. The jars of teeth still plastered in his mind.