She took the shape of the night, wrapping its waves around her. She disappeared into its cloaking folds where the shadows are the darkest. She moved through the night like something insubstantial. She became another of those presences felt in the darkness, but never seen, as she swam the seas of the night, diving ever deeper into the darkness, tasting its sharp secrets on her tongue.
She knew where she was going and how deep into the darkness she would have to dive. The night grew tighter around her; she knew those that dive too deep often lose their way back to the surface. Some drown in the darkness, choking on the black. Their bodies grow limp as the scavengers of the night smell prey and writhe and undulate through the thick dark to feast, to devour.
Others, though, she knew, learnt how to swim the darkness. They became like those older ancient predators that swum the night. They too learnt how to live, how to feast on the night fears of the unwary, caught in the dark currents dragging them deeper down to the places where the shadows fold their darkness in on themselves.
She knew her love was down here, somewhere. She knew she would not rest until she was deep enough; far enough down to take Kimberley’s reaching hand. Then swim with her, back up to the surface of the day.