The door was a plain one, lacking any distinctive design engraved upon its rough mahogany finish to suggest an affluent resident. The door bore marks of weathering and it was splintered badly in some places. Passerby noticed neither house nor door, as if the house was seamlessly stitched into the facade of the town. The doorknob moved slightly, I focused on it as it turned slowly. After seconds that felt like hours, the knob stopped, and the door swung inward. The man that emerged was one I knew, but from where escaped me. He was old, ancient even, with snowy streaks of grey running through his otherwise jet-black hair. He seemed out of place in the bright, sunny background of the Virginia suburbs. I noted a tri-colored patch over his heart, but this was a mere distraction from his face. The man bore pale wrinkled skin, drawn in a squint around eyes that shone a brilliant deep emerald. Those eyes were hypnotic, drawing my gaze to his, and my legs began to carry me forwards. I was almost at the porch when the man seemed to notice me for the first time. His eyes widened, and his hand immediately went to his hip, where I somehow knew a weapon was waiting. I swiftly drew my .45 and loosed three shots into the man. When the first bullet reached him, my heart froze in fear, as each of the bullets dissolved into snow crystals that flurried to the ground like so many dust specks. The man then unclipped a strange crystal from his belt and touched it to his lips. I squeezed the trigger again, but my gun refused to respond. The cold metal became icy, and I quickly dropped it to the ground. The gun shattered as it struck the asphalt, a pile of shattered ice at my feet. Before I could register this turn of events, the man dissolved into a storm black vapor and dispersed into the air. Frantic, I looked in vain for the disappearing man. Feeling a presence behind me I jumped around in time to see him emerge from the air itself. Without thinking, I grabbed at the man, swiping a glittering knife from his belt. The man looked down, stunned, as I quickly thrust the knife into his chest. He jumped backward, coughing blood onto the dirty street, muttering curses in a strange language.
“Nos mos pugna iterum, diabolus.” The man mumbled, spitting out the words in an otherworldly drone, as he dissipated into a wind current, swirling away into nothingness.