Sounds Of The Night in Apt A

It's dark, it's quiet now, and I listen. I am listening for that familiar but cataclysmic sound; the sound of the night. The sound that smashes all dreams; the sound that crumples all hopes; the sound of the unknown; the sound of the abyss. The color of the night, of the darkness, is around me. They are shades of black in the corners; and pale and sickly yellows on the glass panes and I listen for I know that the unknown is quietly awaiting it's glory. Suddenly my auditory senses makes gain with the circumferential darkness as a haunting sound reverberates around me from the apartment upstairs. No one knows who or what lurks up there. It lives in the darkness but it emerges at the cursed hour of the night. This is my demise in the night. I whisper it seems in hopes of saving the night from this accursed thing,

"Two pairs of eyes are watching me now, from the couch and the ledge by the window. Faerieland shines in those eyes. And I must leave you, for it's the witching hour and a full moon is rising. . . ."

The witching hour...the night is a beauty save for the cursed.