Evil Sandman

((Pardon the title, I'm feeling very uncreative right now and I can't think of anything better. Anyway, I'm writing my second story for my speculative fiction class, and I'm about a thousand words in. Here is what I have so far.

You might recognize the theme from another story I wrote for my fiction class, but the plot is different and the characters are more evil.))

Ria Lyte watched the lights in the windows snuff out as she strode past the houses. The edge of her lips twitched into a smug smile and she proudly lifted her chin. Her family was one of very few rebels who dared defy the curfew. They were trying to prove that it was just a law made up by the King to keep his subjects in order. He went as far as to bring his soldiers off the city walls as soon as the sun set. But her family didn’t believe the story he had made up. It told of a monster that prowled the streets, searching for anyone that dared to leave their house after dark. It was called the Sandman, because of the way it killed its victims, though no one she talked to had actually seen what happened.

                The streets were eerily quiet except for her soft footfalls, and even those fell silent when she turned down the walkway to her house, cutting across the grass to save time. Although she openly defied the curfew, that didn’t mean that she didn’t need sleep, even if that sleep was plagued with nightmares. Lights still glowed in the upper windows of the house, and Ria briefly saw a figure move in one of the rooms; her father, no doubt. She leapt up the couple of stairs to the front door, but as she started to turn the handle someone grabbed her arm.

                “I wouldn’t go in there.” the owner of the hand whispered.

                Ria screamed and glanced up at the window as she tried to rip her arm free. No one came to investigate the scream, but the stranger let her go anyway.

                “I would tell you to stay quiet, but you’ve already blown that.” the voice muttered.

                “Who are you?” Ria demanded and took a step back down the stairs.

                The figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing a young man in strange multi-coloured clothes. He would have looked human, had it not been for his large leaf-shaped purple eyes and long pointed ears.

                “Who are you?” Ria asked again, though she sounded more curious than angry now. He was certainly not any creature she had seen before, and she found it hard to believe that he could be the monster that the stories spoke of.

                “Banton Dulcest.” he replied and bowed deeply. The movement caused his cloak to fall forward, the fabric shifting colours as the fire light hit it. He straightened up and looked up at her, then blinked, the colour of his eyes turning from purple to blue. “Now if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you came with me without another sound.”

                Ria laughed loudly and shook her head. “Okay, what are you?”

                “I am of the Neeran race, if that’s what you’re asking. We are not well known to your people, but when we present ourselves, we are generally considered Dreamcatchers.”

                “Dreamcatchers.” she repeated. “What does it mean?”

                Banton pursed his lips and glanced up at the windows. The light was starting to sputter. “I don’t have time to explain. We have to get out of here.”

                “My parents taught me not to follow strange men, especially at night.” Ria scowled as she slowly made her way back up the steps and toward the door.

                “What your parents said does not matter now. They aren’t going to be able to punish you for not following their rules.” he insisted and reached out to grab her arm again.

                “What?” Ria breathed, and before he could get a grip she pushed the door open and raced into the house, Banton cursing asfter her.

                She hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, then raced along the hallway to her parent’s room, where she had seen the figure only moments ago. Inside the candle had nearly burned out, the last of the flame sending dancing light across the room. On the bed laid two figures, as if asleep. Ria breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, they were only sleeping; they had to be only sleeping. She crept closer, her foot squeaking on a loose floor board.

                Their eyes were open and glazed over. Their mouths gaped like dead fish, but were filled with sand, a thin trickle falling from her father’s lips. They each had been cut open from neck to navel and more sand packed their bodies, bloating them up as if they had been dead for hours. Not a drop of blood marred the bed.

                “I’m glad you found them.” a new voice cooed from behind Ria. It was deep and gravelly, like sand against rock. “I was worried I would have to hunt you down.”

                She stiffened and slowly reached a hand out for the dagger her father always kept on his night stand. They often had trouble with intruders breaking into the house during the day to kill them, claiming that her family was going to bring the wrath of the Sandman upon the whole city. Perhaps a knife to the throat would have been more merciful than what had been done tonight.

                “A metal blade?” the voice laughed.

                “You murderer!” Ria screamed and spun around, bringing the dagger down to plunge into the man’s chest. It hit his skin and shattered.

                He didn’t react except for a small chuckle. “Your human weapons will not work on me.” He told her and stepped back, letting her get a good view of him.

                He was easily eight feet tall, his bald head almost brushing the ceiling. His eyes were large and shone like flakes of obsidian. When he grinned he showed off teeth like quartz, transparent and pointed into sharp spikes. Over his body he wore a midnight blue robe with tiny dots of silver to look like the night sky. However, what caught her attention most was his skin. It was mottled brown, white and black, with patches of pink, like that of a granite rock.