Nighthawk13578

      You said you loved me.      I was your first character.      I remember when you first submitted a picture of me onto the internet. You were so happy when you got a compliment on me. Granted, there weren’t many. You weren’t a popular artist. But that was alright, because even one or two positive comments motivated you to draw more.      I remember when you made a second character. His design wasn’t exactly the most original, like, I’ll admit it, my own design. But you were happy with his design. And seeing you happy made me happy as well.      After some more positive feedback, you made another character.

     “Ugh, so fucking bored.”     In the city, a lone man walked. He wore a black trench coat, along with a black hat, dark gray shirt underneath, black pants, and a silver tie blowing in the wind. He was unusually tall, and his stride was brisk and quick. Perhaps the most unsettling thing about him, besides his inhuman height, was the painted bandana on his face, which bared a frightening, sharp-toothed grin with piercing yellow eyes. Poking out from underneath the bandana was a lit cigarette, holding up the fabric enough to see a little bit of black blood and sharp red teeth.     This man was known to humans, by urban legend