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Then, she looked up and let out a short, bitten-off scream. A...thing was there, looming above her, observing her with the impassivity of the cat. Though most of it was shrouded in darkness, Paige knew it was a demon. She could vaguely make out the silhouette of wings, of huge horns curling up from its head like a gazelle. She wanted to light more candles to see better, but she didn’t want to look away from the creature.

Mayor Wilfred was not the kind of person that would willingly accept interviews, but for some reason, he needed the aid of our service to send alarming news. Apparently, the mayor’s daughter, Elsa Elborne, suddenly went missing. Officer Warren was the first face I saw when I went to the town hall. This newly recruited police just also moved in to the island a few months ago, and he was still in the process of trying to impress the chief and earn a permanent position. Although I didn’t bother to ask, my guess was he probably volunteered himself to solve this serious case.

How Sharaign met her end is not recorded. Whether some hero did eventually succeed in bringing her to heel we shall never know. Though there are complimentary legends about the crozier of St. Dunstan, a saint already famed for his battles with the devil, being used to strike her dead. What is recorded, is what was done with her remains. For those who don’t know, a "cairn" is a roughly assembled pile of loose rocks. They usually consist of larger rocks at the bottom with smaller fragments balanced precariously on top the higher it becomes.

Darryl stared at her, wanting to tell her to knock it off, that the joke wasn’t funny. But Crystal stared back at him blankly, watching him struggling to even form basic questions. He knew she wasn’t kidding. It was an animalistic instinct that words didn’t have the hope of matching. Logic and reason had left the building.

A few hours later, wafting into the room with the supercilious air of confidence peculiar to those who know they are to speak on a subject upon which they are unlikely to be challenged came Mavis Clay, adorned in a flowing white dress that seemed to be more ruffles than stitching and sat herself like Christ in Da Vinci’s painting of the Last Supper in the center of the long table, whilst historians, experts, and the duke himself flanked her like apostles, on either side.

With the children of the village, "Greenfinger Tom" was not only a suspect, but irrefutably guilty of any number of crimes. A neighborhood boogeyman for decades, he was used by older kids to taunt their siblings and frighten them into obedience. “If you get out of that bed again, Greenfinger Tom will get you,” seems to have been a common threat used by mothers and fathers who had themselves sprinted past Greenfinger’s garden if they were forced to pass after dusk.

“You mean…you’re not coming in with me?” Hayley asked, feeling something in her stomach drop, though she didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Amber flashed Hayley a smile that was half-regret, half pitying.

"No.” She admitted, guiltily. “I am sorry. If I enter the darkness, it would grab me before I can fetch you anything to get the fire going.” Sam nodded. He had faced death before. But every time, there was hope, a fighting chance. This time, he could do nothing. Emily visibly shuddered. “He will have me, place its scythe through my soul. It allows it to control the agony my soul receives. Then, until the morning, I will keep suffering. Every moment feels like an eternity. I might switch to my other personalities, just to escape the pain.”

We passed in front of the men, some of whom gave me angry stares. I laughed inwardly. How easy it was for them to blame another for their own misfortune. I knew some had their eyes on my navigator, while others affixed theirs on me. I had often been the subject of many an attention, but I hardly indulged in such subtle fantasies. Only once in my very long life have I had anyone who could afford me the pleasures I desired. Others had only managed to while away my time. A commodity I possess in excess.

Short stories by Mace Styx: "The grave keeper opened the door, stepping awkwardly outside at such an unbearably slow pace Jonah wanted to scream. “Where is it, this grave you saw?” he asked, vaguely, as though Jonah had informed him that he’d left the kettle on. “Over there, near the tree.” Jonah told him, pointing. “I dropped my lantern right next to it.” “I’ll take a look,” he said, still speaking as if finding the earth broken open was a mild, everyday inconvenience. “You wait right here".