A Beautiful Night.

  That is what I thought as I strolled through the streets

  Policemen walked around me on their patrols

  The air was crisp and cold

  With only the soothing warm light from streetlamps to counter it

  Leaves fell to the ground with the gentleness of late August winds

  Enchanted by the bright moonlight

  The leaves shined a breathtaking white

  From a moon that hung low in the sky

  Then I saw you.

  You were sat at a public bench in front of the old church graveyard

  Your face looked gaunt and sickly

  Your eyes had nary a thought behind them

  And you wore a black robe

  I thought it odd for a moment

  But I assumed you too were enjoying this delightful night and carried on

  What a dreadful mistake.

  I continued to walk my way home

  Encountering a murder of crows pecking at a dead rodent on my stroll

  I thought it cruel and waved the birds away

  They cawed and flapped their wings at me

  But eventually, they did fly away to look for a new meal

  I should have noticed you.

  Walking past the homes of others enjoying warm meals

  A smile crept upon my face as I thought back to simpler days

  Before the priests had stuck their noses where they did not belong

  Deep into the old caves

  Since then, the whole town has been in a tizzy

  I shook my head.

  No reason to fuel such negative thoughts on a night as this one

  Further into my stroll, a lady of the night propositioned me

  I kept walking for I had no money

  In our brief conversation, she said something that caught my interest

  She made mention of a woman in red

  With blank eyes and a gaunt appearance

  My mind flashed back to you sitting on that park bench

  However, it was only a brief mention

  So I did not think much of it at the time

  Then it began.

  With each step I took, a second step rung out in the air

  When I stopped, they stopped

  I looked around, only not to see anything

  Yet with each step, I heard another

  One which did not belong to me.

  The hairs on my neck began to rise

  I quickened my pace through these poorly lit streets

  I remember it now!

  I nearly ran over a poor old man

  Sitting in front of his home

  He was smoking a pipe that smelled of poppy

  He went to yell.

  But at the sight of me, he averted his eyes

  I tried to get his attention to which he simply walked into his home with a stumble

  Leaving his poppy-filled pipe behind

  I was thoroughly unsettled

  I turned once again and saw a vague glimpse of a woman’s long hair

  The moonlight reflecting off it with a shine

  Right before she vanished into the tall shadows

  No longer simply enjoying a simple walk

  I ran.

  You followed close behind mimicking each step

  The noise grew closer and closer

  Were you close behind?

  I did not dare to leave the streetlights guiding warmth

  For I had believed you feared the light

  A blunder of the highest order!

  Fortuitously, I had found my home

  I slammed my door open and threw it back with the same vigor

  Like a man possessed, I dash to my living room

  On the center table sat a candle lantern

  I lit a match, and it ignited with a brilliant warm light

  Holding it up, I peered through the curtains

  I saw you.

  Standing there on the corner of the street

  Your gaze was as listless as before

  Only now it was facing me directly

  I felt it tugging on my soul

  My sweat ran cold

  I could hear you.

  Even through closed doors

  Your off-tune hums came through

  Almost as if you were right behind me

  I close my curtains.

  And the noise stopped

  Leaving a disturbing silence in its absence

  Unlike the quiet of the city streets

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I did not allow myself to take any comfort in its cold grasp

  I instead walked up the creaky stairs to my room

  My paranoia was palpable

  With my heart beating out of my chest

  Not a drop of blood went up to my cheeks

  I secured the door behind me with a steamer trunk

  Tucking myself into the corner of my room

  Lantern still in hand

  I prayed it would be sufficient to ward you off

  I remained like this for the next two hours

  Merely watching the moon in the sky to ease my shaken nerves

  My eyes grew heavy.

  There were only a few more hours till sunrise

  Having heard no noise nor having seen a single sight

  I drifted into sleep.

  A slumber in which only nightmares appeared

  In the dream, I was walking toward an invisible spirit

  It was led by a being unlike anything I had ever seen

  It had no eyes

  Only a mouth that split its face into two

  Practically hanging by their chin

  I followed this being for what felt like years

  Through the deserts, the poles, and the forests

  I walked and I walked

  My feet bled yet I could not stop

  Why not, what was I chasing?

  At the top of a bell tower

  My legs collapsed from exhaustion

  I watched as they let loose a laugh that pierced the air like a mighty sword

  Then I awoke.

  Covered in a cold sweat, my lantern still shining

  With little idea of how much time had passed

  All I knew was that it was still night

  It was odd however

  The moon no longer hung low

  It was in the dead center of the sky

  Blinding me with its light

  Even overshadowing the sun itself!

  I heard a lock twist.

  From downstairs, I heard it

  Had you found me once again?

  As an answer to my question, the wooden stairs creak

  With one step and then another

  A dead ringer for a man gasping for breath

  I clutched my lantern.

  Please, I have done no wrong to you

  Leave me be! I shouted

  You pushed my door ever so slightly open.

  The steamer truck was barely a deterrent

  Your face reflected the moon’s brilliant light

  But once it hit your black robe, I saw it morph into a vermilion-red

  With an unnatural arm movement, you forced your way in

  I could hear your joints pop and crack as you did

  I begged.

  Do not come closer

  I screamed.

  Get away from me!

  You did not listen

  Approaching me with your rawboned hands

  Your face for the first time twisted into an expression that I could not decipher

  You held my face.

  In an uncharacteristic tender way

  Your hands were cold but so very comforting

  Like the touch of a dark angel

  With your nails, you drew circles on my cheeks

  I looked into your eyes.

  They were deformed and hideous

  Yet, with each passing second they seemed to transform

  From dull unfeeling eyes to a glimpse of a greater truth

  One uncorrupted by the chill of bone or flesh

  A truth so grand that it repels even the Crimson Parade

  It was overwhelming.

  I felt my mind desperately trying to comprehend each facet of its multilayered meanings

  Then your eyes returned to normal

  Only now they much more closely resemble normal emerald-green eyes

  There was still a hint of their old divinity hidden below the surface

  I felt the fear slip away and embraced your chilling touch

  Slowly, but surely, you inched your fingers closer to my very own eyes

  I did not flinch.

  As you spread my eyelids open

  Using your middle and ring fingers to hold them down in place

  I felt no pain.

  As you inserted your long nails underneath my eyelids

  Only pressure as more of your index and thumb entered

  Scratching the back of my retina

  I felt it writhing.

  My eye socket squirmed at your touch

  Recoiling in a desperate bid to get away

  Like a mound of worms seeking shelter

  I almost dared to speak up

  But I knew better than to interrupt what is your ritual

  I do not know for how long we remained in that position

  All I knew was the feeling of your fingers moving with elegance and grace

  Like a seamstress putting their whole soul into weaving a fine silk

  Once you finally loosened your grip

  I was bathed in the twilight’s pale light

  The world has been changed

  Well at least for me, it was

  A throbbing numbness radiated from my eyes

  But it did not take long until they adapted to your procedure

  Then I saw it.

  Your exposed veins twirling in the air

  With the grace of two ballerinas performing their final show

  From a silt that appeared in your palm

  They dance alone with no blood to be seen as they tie themselves together

  An amazing blue light bounced off them once they met the moons own

  I sat there amazed, basking in its glory

  They ventured back down into the silt

  Pulling out a vermilion robe not unlike yours

  You gave it to me.

  I could’ve wept once I held the fabric in my hand

  Impossibly soft and luxurious

  A gown fit for the kings of yore

  A cloak fit for the aristocrats who choke on their wealth

  With no hesitation, I draped it around my body

  I felt your voice.

  You spoke to me with a voice that has never existed

  A language only known by the elder miners

  You asked me to recount my night

  As you held my earlobes ever so softly

  And so I spoke.

  About the cold crisp air

  The policemen on their patrols

  The falling August leaves

  And of course, the beautiful moon

  Oh, my! What a Beautiful night!

  NEW VICTIM IN THE RIPPER MURDERS

  Oscomin, Sunday, August 27th, 1871.

  Yet another murder of the foulest kind was discovered last night in the early hours of the morning. Howard Phillips, a respected professor and esteemed member of the City’s Cave Research Council, was found dead by his close friend Alfred Chambers. According to Alfred, he had gone to visit his friend during the morning so that they could get breakfast together, only to find his body ripped apart and disfigured. On further analysis by the Oscomin Police Department coroners, they determined that this was consistent with a larger series of murders in the Lower Oscomin area. In which the victim is ripped apart into a bloodied mess with only two features spared from the brutality, those being the lobes of their ears and a pair of bloated eyes. In this particular case, they were both found together on the victim's bedroom window sill above an unlit lantern, while the body was seemingly irreparably mutilated.

  Howard Phillips was a beacon of light in our community, a talented professor, and a beloved son. With his passing the world has grown to a darker place, our condolences to his friends and family. He shall not be forgotten from both this city and our hearts. His funeral service shall be held in Leogalnee Cemetery, and we ask all our readers to please take great care while traversing the streets at night.