"I'm here." The voice was sharp and each syllable hurt Lazlo's eardrums.

The detective could feel a chill start to emanate through her bones as she felt an otherworldly presence lift her higher and higher. Verity felt hopeless as the glowing light bound her body to its whim.

Was this the end?    

Her spine began to buckle under an agonisingly slow twisting force. Her eyes were being pricked with the coldest of needles as she let the powerful being take her over. Then a fiery liquid struck her outstretched hand.

"Need... No. I..."

Lazlo screamed, but it was her own voice entwined with the disembodied supernatural creature that so easily controlled her. She raised her head to the sky and the dark clouds above rained down upon her and the ghoulish army that surrounded her.

"Need!" the harsh being screamed again.

With each raindrop that landed on the detective's body, she found herself falling closer to the ground. The blue glow was diminishing now. As her feet found the ground once more, she could see clearly now. What was once an all-powerful and maniacal unit of soldiers, now looked like a group of screaming and writhing bodies.

It didn't take a detective to see that the rain was somehow hurting those under "The Glow." Her training didn't need to take control for Lazlo to get back into the car. She hurriedly turned the ignition key, ignoring the damaged windscreen altogether. It started first time and she drove away as fast as she could, back to the station. In her rearview mirror, the blue ominous glow flickered in and out of existence. Rainfall on the car gave her comfort, but as she travelled, the falling rain trickled to nothing.

"Oh no."

She gripped the steering wheel even tighter as she prayed for the station to be in better condition than her.

***

His website and business card declared that Silas Carmen was an antique dealer. But that was just for friends and tax purposes. In actuality, he was an obsessive researcher into everything related to the occult.

The familiar "ding" alerted him to a new email in his inbox. His long fingers logged himself in and he read the fresh document from a fellow "researcher."

"S.

At least 6 occurrences in the last 48 hours.

Suicide—Murders. No age patterns. No observable discrimination. The only correlation is the 'blue eye-glow' and location—your location.

Find a way—any way!

G."

Silas' heart was in his throat as he read each word repeatedly. Finally, when he forced himself to take a breath, he moved to his special bookcase. He gripped the wood and pulled, it rolled away and to the side, revealing a secondary set of books. They were old, bound in the hardest leather and had burnt in symbols that identified their treasured knowledge. His decrepit finger leapt out at the youngest book in his collection.

The old man went to a table and opened the book. He swiped each page until he found the one he was looking for. He began to read quickly. Halfway through the text, he released another held breath in his fear. A cloud of hot air met a sudden chill and Silas' body shook from the sudden chill. He looked around for answers but only felt a presence in the room with him. He turned back to the page, but to his horror, it had become frozen in its entirety. Scared now, his warm hands rubbed at the ice-encrusted page. He tried to read the rest of the entry but the ink was now disappearing before his very eyes.

"Needs..."

Silas stood up in shock. He breathed out again, another cloud of warm air was swallowed by the growing chilly atmosphere. His eardrums were humming in pain now. His eyes betrayed his own blossoming fear and he grabbed the damaged book, running out into the street—away from the dangerous glow that was starting to affect his sight.