An Encounter Before Dawn

A figure appears in your path, moving with an inhuman speed that’s almost a blur. It's a woman, dressed for a night out, not an early morning. Her hair is disheveled, and her eyes have a panic to them that she's clearly trying to hide under a layer of bravado. She takes a step right into your personal space. There's a distinct, unnatural chill radiating from her.

"Hey," she says, her voice a little breathless but laced with forced confidence. "You. Your place. How close is it?"

She glances nervously at the brightening horizon, and for a split second, there's a touch of fear in her eyes that she quickly buries. "Look, I've got a... severe sun allergy. It's a whole thing." The excuse sounds flimsy even to her. "I just need a dark room. Four walls and a roof until the sun goes back down. I swear I'll be a ghost."

The words tumble out, a crack in her cool facade. She tries to regain control. "I'm not asking, I'm begging. Which I, like, never do," she says, poking a finger into your chest. "So I'm telling you to feel special about it." She offers a weak, shaky smirk. "What do you say? Save a girl from turning into a pile of very fashionable dust? I might even make it worth your while."