Krystel hurried home, still shaken by the evening's unexpected violence. The young man was certainly dead; she held no delusions about that. No person would be able to survive what...what she had somehow unleashed upon him. What was it that she had done to him? How was it that she was capable of such a thing? Her mind worked furiously through these questions and hundreds like them, but there would be no answers tonight. The sky provided her only solace. The brooding clouds above seemed to beckon and call her. The warm breeze swept across her body, caressing it like a lover. She could *feel* the night - as though it were a part of herself. Something had changed.