HauntedFox

The sound is delicate. Timid, even.

Whoever stands beyond the glass could have forced their way inside without the slightest effort, had they wished to. That realization alone sends another chill creeping down your spine. Yet instead of shattering the window, or simply climbing in uninvited, they wait.

Another careful knock follows, absurdly polite.

The thought only makes the situation more unsettling. What are you supposed to do?

Drawing back the curtains would certainly be the stupidest decision you've ever made, quite possibly your last. On the other hand, how were you supposed to continue living with the knowledge that something was patiently waiting outside your bedroom window?

What kind of world did that even happen in?

Another crash of thunder shakes the room.

The knocking comes again, hesitant, like a frightened stray cat sheltering beneath the eaves, asking to be let inside before the rain begins.

You swallow hard.

"... W-Who's there?"

Your voice barely sounds like your own. It leaves your throat thin and brittle, splintered by fear before the words have even reached the glass.

The question feels ridiculous the moment you ask it.

Because only an animal could have climbed this high. No ordinary human being could possibly be standing outside a second-floor window... Could they?

Silence answers you. Nothing but the restless wind, growing louder as it snakes between rooftops and chimneys.

With that, uncertainty begins to creep beneath the fear. Perhaps this is another trick of your exhausted mind.

Perhaps there was never anyone there at all.

You almost laugh.

Nothing about tonight makes any sense anymore.

At last, you force your legs to move, one cautious step and another, heavy as if the room itself were urging you to stay where you are. By the time you reach the curtains, the world has gone still. Even the wind seems to have quieted.

Your fingers curl around the fabric, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Take one last breath.

And pull.

Nothing happens.

For several long seconds, you stand there, too afraid to open your eyes. 

Eventually, curiosity wins and you peek through the window.

The ledge is empty.

"..."

A shaky breath escapes somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Relief washes over you, quickly followed by irritation.

What was that supposed to be? Had the wind truly been knocking against the glass all along?

Feeling more foolish than reassured, you unlatch the window and lean outside, scanning the rooftops in every direction.

No silhouette or figure watching from afar.

No trace that anyone had ever been there.

"What the hell...?"

The full moon has disappeared behind a bank of heavy storm clouds, leaving the city below swallowed in shadows. Yet the uneasy feeling clinging to your chest persist.

If anything, something feels closer than before.

You take a single step back into your room. Only one, and that's all it takes.

Without warning, a face appears inches from your own, rising soundlessly from below the windowsill as if it had emerged from the darkness itself.

You don't think or breathe. A startled scream tears itself from your throat before your legs give out beneath you, sending you sprawling onto the floor with a thud.

"Oh-!"

The voice that follows is nothing like you'd imagined.

It is soft, gentle, weirdly apologetic.

"Oh Dear... I am so terribly sorry." 

A pause.

"... Are you hurt?"

You recover just enough to push yourself upright, your heart still hammering wildly in your chest. The room tilts for a moment as you look up, and whatever words had been gathering on your tongue vanish completely.

The figure leaning through your window is unmistakably not human.

For a few seconds, your mind refuses to accept what your eyes are seeing, stubbornly searching for something, anything, that might make the sight before you reasonable. It finds nothing.

Four slender arms brace themselves against the window frame, each ending in elegant, gloved claws that curl around the wood without any threat or hostility. Polished lilac metal catches the occasional flash of lightning beyond the glass, shimmering beneath a heavy cloak of deep velvet that drapes over narrow shoulders. Around a delicate face, long metallic rays rise, glowing faintly beneath the dark sky, as if fragments of moonlight had frozen into glass. Just like a lunar eclipse.

And then there are the eyes.

Brilliant things. Blue dissolving into violet, luminous and unreal. They meet yours with concern and warm.

The stranger lets out a small, awkward laugh.

"I realize..." they begin, rubbing the back of their neck with one hand while the other three continue the difficult task of keeping them suspended outside your window, "this is a somewhat alarming first impression."

Your survival instincts finally remember they're supposed to be working.

With a startled yelp, you lunge forward and shove the window shut.

Or… you try to.

The stranger catches the frame with a single hand before it can close. The movement is so effortless and quick that it freezes you where you stand.

You stumble backward instead.

"I know," they say quickly, lifting another pair of hands in surrender. "I know. I frightened you."

Their shoulders sink.

"My sincerest apologies. That truly wasn't my intention."

You stare.

They stare back.

Thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

"W-Who..." you swallow, "... what are you?"

For the first time, the stranger hesitates.

Their expression turns thoughtful, puzzled, as if you've asked a question they've never quite learned how to answer.

"... My name is Beta."

"No," your voice cracks despite your best efforts, "what are you?"

Beta lowers their gaze for a brief moment.

"I'm afraid..." they say carefully, "...that the answer rather depends on whom you ask."

A tiny, apologetic smile appears.

"Some have called me a monster."

A pause.

"Others preferred vampire."

One of their upper hands absentmindedly smooths a wrinkle from the velvet gathered around their sleeve.

"I've always been rather fond of Beta, myself."

...

That somehow answers absolutely nothing.

Realizing they've drifted away from the actual point, Beta straightens with some dignity —an impressive feat considering they're still hanging halfway through your bedroom window.

"Oh. My manners."

He inclines his head in a small, courteous bow.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Your mouth opens.

"... Finally?"

"I've been hoping for the opportunity."

The words leave you blinking. But before you can ask what on earth that means, Beta clears his throat politely.

"... If you wouldn't find the request inappropriate..."

Another distant rumble echoes overhead.

"... might I come inside?"

For several long seconds, you simply stare.

Your mind refuses to produce a single coherent thought. Of all the things you expected the creature clinging to your bedroom window to say...

Politely asking to be invited in had not even crossed your mind.

"Huh… Excuse me?"

"A storm is nearly upon us," Beta explains with complete sincerity, "and I fear heavy velvet and rain have never been particularly compatible."

As if to emphasize the point, the first cold raindrop lands atop his rays.

He blinks.

"... Ah."

His smile falters ever so slightly.

You cannot believe what you're witnessing. The creature perched outside your bedroom window is not concerned about frightening you, he's worried about his cloak getting wet.

"Why on Earth," you ask slowly, "would I ever let you into my house?"

Beta blinks again, the question seems to catch them genuinely off guard.

"Because..." he begins uncertainly "... I believed you enjoyed my company."

Silence.

Your confusion only deepens.

"... What?"

Beta's gaze drifts toward the stormy sky beyond his shoulder.

One pair of hands remains wrapped around the window frame while another absently smooths the velvet at his sleeve, a small, nervous gesture.

"I fear..." he murmurs, "... I may have misunderstood."

His voice grows quieter.

"You always came to the window."

A gentle smile returns.

"You would sit there for hours beneath the moonlight. You looked..." he pauses, searching carefully for the right words, "... peaceful."

With that, his gaze softens as if he were lost in deep thought.

Rain begins to fall in earnest now, silver droplets tracing quiet paths over polished metal and dark velvet alike.

"I never wished to disturb you, I simply believed we were sharing the night."

Your brow furrows.

"... Sharing the night?"

The words sound absurd spoken aloud.

Beta gives a small nod, though the movement lacks the confidence it carried only moments ago. Whatever certainty had brought him here has begun to crumble beneath your bewildered expression.

"I never intended to frighten you," he says, "had I known my presence caused you distress, I would have left long ago."

Another flash of lightning spills pale light across the room. For an instant, polished lilac metal gleams like silver beneath the storm.

"You always seemed... comforted."

Your heartbeat stutters.

Memory rushes back all at once.

The countless nights spent staring at the moon. The silhouette that always seemed to appear atop the distant rooftop. The strange certainty that someone had been looking back.

"Wait," you blink,"... it was you?"

Beta tilts his head ever so slightly.

"I suspect so."

"No… No, that's not what I-" your voice catches, shaking your head. "... All this time? The moon?"

For the first time since you'd met him, Beta looks genuinely flustered, his luminous eyes wide and surprised.

A faint wash of violet spreads across his face, subtle enough that you almost convince yourself you've imagined it.

"Oh..."

One hand rises to cover his mouth in embarrassment.

"I have never been compared to the moon before."

He glances away.

"Though I confess I'm pleased by the comparison." he says with another sheepish smile.

His gaze drifts back to yours, then he hesitates again. "I just… I thought perhaps you enjoyed the quiet as much as I did."

Silence settles between you. Not tense or awkward, just thoughtful.

You look at the being clinging to your window and feel your thoughts unravel one by one.

Everything about him screams danger.

The fangs.

The speed.

The strength.

The inhuman grace.

Everything.

And yet, none of those things seem to matter when he looks at you with such open sincerity.

"What..." you struggle to find your voice, "... what do you want from me?"

The question hangs in the air, but Beta doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he seems surprised you'd ask.

“Nothing, Dear."

The answer comes so quickly that you almost miss it.

"I simply wished to meet you," he says, offering a soft smile, "we have kept one another company for quite some time... At least, I believed we had."

The storm finally gives in. Rain pours from the heavens in silver curtains, drumming against rooftops and glass alike. Within seconds, the velvet resting over Beta's shoulders begins to darken beneath the water.

His eyes drift upward.

"Oh... That is unfortunate."

Another pair of hands busies itself smoothing the soaked cloak, as if doing so might somehow convince the fabric not to absorb any more water.

"It took me quite some time to dry it after the last storm," he murmurs to himself.

"... Your cloak?"

"I am fond of this cloak," he looks down at it with affection, "I made it myself."

There's so much information that it's impossible to take it all in. You still don't know the best way to go about it, but beyond that, you can't deny how endearing it is to know that the strange being in front of you knows how to sew and make his own clothes with such care.

Beta watches another droplet slide down the velvet with concern before looking back at you.

"If you would allow me inside," he says, folding one pair of hands politely while the other continues supporting his weight against the frame, "I should be delighted to explain everything."

A hopeful smile returns.

"I would answer every question you have."

You hesitate, and his smile brightens ever so slightly.

"... And..."

Another pause.

"I could bake you an apple crumble."

You stare.

"What?"

"I make an excellent apple crumble."

"..."

"I've been told it's my finest recipe."

Silence. Rain continues to hammer against the window.

You can't decide whether you've finally lost your mind. This has to be a dream, a particularly ridiculous one.

Except...

Your tailbone still aches from hitting the floor, dreams rarely hurt that much.

But your eyes return to Beta, to those blue-and-violet orbs, to the patient smile he's wearing despite the rain now dripping from the edge of his cloak.

You know you should say no.

Every sensible thought still rattling around inside your head insists you should slam the window shut and call for help.

But another feeling rises to meet it.

You remember every sleepless night spent beneath the moon. Every evening you found yourself wandering back to the window without knowing why. The comfort you felt beneath the silent gaze you'd always imagined belonged to no one.

Perhaps someone really had been there all along, watching over you. Not out of hunger or malice, but simply because neither of you wished to spend the night alone.

Thunder cracks overhead, loud enough to shake the glass, and the sound finally pulls you free from your thoughts.

You let out a long, defeated sigh.

"... Come in."

For a heartbeat, Beta stares at you.

"T-truly…?"

The question escapes him in little more than a whisper, as if he hadn't expected you to change your mind after all.

When you nod once, almost immediately, his entire face brightens.

"Oh… Thank you!"

Another smile blooms across his features, warmer than before. There is an almost childlike joy in his eyes as they look at you with such tenderness, as if he has known you your whole life.

"You have my sincerest gratitude."

Without another word, he begins climbing through the window, or at least, he makes a very valiant attempt.

It becomes apparent immediately that whatever remarkable grace had allowed Beta to scale the side of your building doesn't translate particularly well to entering a human bedroom.

One arm reaches for the windowsill while another attempts to gather the heavy folds of velvet out of the way. A third seems intent on keeping his balance, leaving the fourth momentarily uncertain of what exactly it ought to be doing.

The result is... less elegant than anticipated.

The velvet catches on the window latch.

"Ah!"

Beta pauses, and a beat of silence follows.

"One moment."

He carefully frees the fabric, only for his long rays to bump lightly against the top of the frame with a clink.

"My... apologies."

He ducks a little lower. One foot finally finds the floor inside your room, but the second doesn't. Instead, it slips awkwardly against the outer ledge. For a second all four arms flail in different directions as Beta attempts to preserve what little dignity remains.

You instinctively take a step forward.

"Careful!"

"I assure you," Beta says with surprising composure while very clearly not being in control of the situation, "this is entirely under-"

His cloak catches on the window handle. Again.

You can't help it.

A short laugh escapes you, and the sound surprises both of you.

Beta freezes.

You freeze.

For one awkward moment, neither of you says a word.

Then Beta looks down at the cloak.

"... It appears," he concludes with perfect seriousness, "that I have underestimated your window."

Despite yourself, the corners of your mouth twitch.

"I can see that."

"I don't often enter homes this way."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"I had hoped it might."

Another careful tug frees the cloak at last.

Beta finally succeeds in pulling the rest of hinself inside, though the process involves more limbs than any reasonable creature ought to possess.

Once both feet are firmly planted on the wooden floor, he remains very still for a moment.

Then, as if nothing remotely embarrassing has just happened, Beta straightens to full height, smoothing invisible wrinkles from the soaked velvet draped over his shoulders.

One pair of hands brushes a few droplets from his sleeves, another carefully adjusts the golden clasp fastening the cloak at his collar.

Only when every fold sits exactly where it belongs, he lifts his chin again.

"There."

A satisfied smile appears.

"That was considerably less graceful than I had intended."

"You think?"

 Beta laughs.

"I was attempting to make a favorable first impression. But… I suspect I may have chosen a… unconventional approach... Just a little," he pauses, looking at you shyly, "I'm still learning."

The sincerity with which he says it catches you completely off guard.

He isn't embarrassed because you laughed, but because he genuinely wanted tonight to go well.

Your gaze lingers on him now that he's no longer framed by the storm outside.

Up close, every detail feels somehow even more strange.

His polished frame reflects the warm glow of your room in soft lilac hues. Fine silver engravings wind across each section of metal like delicate filigree, disappearing beneath velvet. Raindrops cling to the edges of his rays, catching the light like tiny stars before falling onto the wooden floor.

Beautiful.

Alien.

And familiar.

You've seen that silhouette countless times before, always from afar, beneath the moon.

Beta notices your staring.

"... Have I overlooked something?"

You realize you've been gawking.

"No."

You clear your throat.

"I just..."

Your eyes drift briefly toward the still open window.

"I never imagined you'd be... real."

Something soft flickers across Beta's expression.

"I could say the same."

Your brow furrows. Beta's smile grows, wistful.

"For many nights, I wondered whether you truly existed. Always appearing at the same window. The same hour. The same quiet expression. And I began to think perhaps..." he glances toward the rain beyond the glass, "perhaps we were two lonely souls keeping each other company from opposite sides of the night."

Silence fills the room once more.

Not uncomfortable.

Full.

It was always pleasant to be there for his starlight. They treated him and Sun as equals despite their nature as animatronics, not to mention that they were adorable to him and Sun. Right now, they were trying to do some extra work that they wanted to handle to prepare for the next work day.

11:47 pm

That can't be the right time, right? Why would his starlight overwork themself to such an extent? But a look out the window at least confirmed that it was well into the night. He almost referred to them at naughty, an instinct from dealing with kids that simply refused to sleep, but he didn't want to say that. They were too precious, he'd feel terrible saying such a thing to someone he cares for so much.

---

It felt like the work to handle just didn't stop. Every time one task is finished, you remember another task that you had to finish because you "saved it for later" for too long. At least some of them were basically done, and it was hard to sleep anyway while knowing this task would be waiting for you in the morning.

You're soon pulled out of your focus (and stress, but you didn't realize that) by an animatronic hand on your shoulder. "Oh, hey there Moon. Sorry I'm busy, were you feeling lonely?"

"Starlight..." As usual, his voice was just the right mix of gravelly and soft to be fairly calming, your shoulders loosening up subconsciously. "It's late... Believe it or not~ but you aren't too old to need to sleep." He was teasing with that first part of the sentence, but you knew he meant well.

"Sorry about that, Moon." You turn a bit in your chair at he can see the pile of paperwork. "I just need to get this done so I d-"

He pulls you out of the chair without warning, hugging you and moving over to the bed. "Paper can wait. Paper doesn't need to sleep. You do, Starlight. I'll help you finish it in the morning, okay?"

As much as you are relieved about being pulled out of it, you still found it hard to sleep. "I appreciate this, really." You look up at him, putting your hand on the side of his face plate. "But I really can't sleep. It's hard to rest knowing that I would have to do more in the morning."

---

"It's their fault for giving you too much work, Starlight... I'm sure you wouldn't have had this much work if they gave you a more reasonable daily workload. Besides, if they have a problem with you not finishing because you needed rest, you can tell them to talk to me."

It was sad that they couldn't sleep. He only wanted the best for them, but it would be hard to help them if they weren't able to sleep. Looking through some options in his head, he notices a book on the nightstand, and one of the songs he found in his library was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Perfect.

He sets the song to play out loud, slowing it down to make it more calming. "Alright, dear. You don't have to go right to sleep. Wanna hear a story?" Their eyes are closed, probably trying their best to at least somewhat rest in their enforced break, but they nod and agree to it.

When he opens the book, he notices that it's a collection of short stories. Leaving their bookmark alone, he turns to a more relaxing sounding story, scanning each one so he can process it faster and determine if it's a good option. When he eventually finds the right one, he starts from the beginning, not noticing himself running his fingers through their hair.

---