Elaine stood there, still stunned by Helena's behavior. She finally got back to her senses and turned to Allan, but surprisingly, he wasn't there anymore. She quickly surveyed the yard, even walked a little farther, but he was nowhere to be seen. She was sure he hadn't gone into the house if he had, she would've noticed.
"Where did he go?" she asked no one in particular.
She sighed softly and sat back down. She decided to wait a little longer before going inside, still dazed by Helena's attitude. And to think she believed they had become friends.
Allan walked down the wet, muddy path, darkness shrouding everything. The old houses scattered around made the place seem lonelier, with the forest being his only company. The faint hooting of owls echoed through the air, crickets chirped, and frogs croaked loudly. His steps were quiet, but for some reason, the air felt heavy it carried the feeling that something was out of place.
Then it became real. He began hearing faint whispers, voices of people still far away. He couldn't make out the words at first, so he walked closer.
"I could swear I saw it," a man's voice said.
"How sure are you?" another voice asked.
"Very."
"How is it possible for it to leave?"
"It probably wouldn't stay long. Let's not let this opportunity slip past us. Are you ready?"
Allan's expression remained neutral neither angry nor smiling. He understood what they were talking about. He decided to pay them a visit; no need to wait for them to come disturb Simmy and her father.
And with that thought, the next moment, he was gone only a faint black shadow appeared before vanishing too.
"Agh!" a voice rang out, sharp with shock. One of the men had turned and seen Allan standing behind them.
"Who are you?" another asked, still unaware of what was happening.
Allan didn't bother replying. One of the others quickly shouted, "It's him, the one!"
Instantly, all six men took defensive stances, ready to fight. The idea almost made Allan's lips curl into a smirk. It was laughable mere inhabitants of this abandoned town trying to face the Phantom Lord, master of death's domain.
He didn't plan to strike first. In fact, he didn't feel like fighting at all. It wasn't a fair fight anyway.
A sharp blade sliced through the air toward him but didn't reach. It passed right through him as his form turned translucent, then solid again. His lips twisted further, amused by the shock on their faces.
"Don't tell me you didn't know who you were going up against," Allan said, taking a step forward.
Another wave of knives and blades flew at him uselessly. Every one of them phased through his body. In seconds, two of the men lay dead, their necks snapped cleanly he didn't want their blood on him, so he ended them without spilling any.
Only one man remained, trembling. "P-please, spare me," he stuttered.
But something was off. People like this didn't beg not to someone they despised.
As Allan stared at the man, something splashed on him and the pain that followed was otherworldly. Holy water.
The moment it touched him, it burned like acid, searing through his skin. Rage consumed him instantly. Holy water, one of the few things that could weaken a phantom.
Half his face darkened into a black skeletal form, his eye gleaming silver. In an instant, his hand now transformed, the skim dark, black veins evident in them pierced through the man's belly. The man's scream was muffled as Allan's other hand covered his mouth before ripping out his tongue. Blood splattered as Allan finally snapped his neck, leaving it hanging loosely, only a strip of flesh keeping it from falling to the ground.
Almost an hour passed.
Elaine still sat outside in the cool evening, the smell of wet earth strong in the air. Surprisingly, a single star managed to pierce through the thick clouds. The sight was so beautiful that she smiled subconsciously.
"Aren't you coming in?" someone asked, it was Simmy.
"Oh, yes." She turned toward the entrance of the yard. "I didn't know where Allan went," she said softly.
She finally stood up, about to walk toward Simmy when she heard footsteps. Turning, she saw Allan.
A bright smile almost crossed her face, but then on a closer look something felt off. His hair was tousled differently, his eyes weren't vacant as usual but burned with suppressed anger. His forehead was damp with sweat, and his clothes were partially wet.
When his eyes met hers, she didn't know why but she quickly averted her gaze and followed Simmy into the house, Allan trailing silently behind.