Sarah J. Herbison

Florecent lights buzzed overhead as I plopped my purse on my desk. The smell of dust and stale coffee permeated the air as a stale box of donuts lay on the desk beside me, attracting flies. The suns last rays set in the horizon, making the changing leaves glow. I longed to take a walk outside and breath the cool crisp air, but it would be dark soon and I had to clock in. 

“Do you have any plans for Halloween,” said Rob, my coworker. “We’re taking the kids out to trunk or treat out at our church meet up on Sunday.”

I put my head down and rolled my eyes. “Samhain, I celebrate Samhain, and I’ve taken off the last week of October,” I said under my breath. I was stuck in this dreary office and time couldn’t pass fast enough, and here was Mr. Family man asking me to cover for him.

“What?”

“I’m taking off next week, I have other plans,” I said.

“So you can’t cover my shift on Sunday? The kids were looking forward to trunk or treat.”

“Ask Dave, he practically lives here, he’ll take your shift if he hasn’t already.” 

“I would but Dave is out for the weekend.”

“Rob, I’ve already picked up a shift for you last week, please check the schedule for someone else, this holiday is important to me.” My hands curled into fists and I gritted my teeth, the nerve of some coworkers.

The loading ticker showed on my desk, taking a full five minutes to log in. 

:Ericka! It’s great to see you. Got anything planned, bestie?:

I smiled at Angie’s message, ah at least some conversation to break up the monotony of my shift tonight.

:Yeah, I’m going to hang out with some friends, did you want to come out with us?:

:I wish I could , but I’m working overtime tomorrow, then I have to pack up.:

:Well, I hope you have fun.:

:I will.:

Sometimes I wish I had more time in the day. Angie and I would spend time in between calls and projects to joke or complain about the system crashing. However , working on night shift crushed most plans for hanging out. Nothing was open after we got off work except for the emergency room and truck stops. I also commuted forty minutes to work and back and ended up staying home on my days off. Perhaps when I got back from vacation I’d make more time to spend with them, attend group functions. Who am I kidding? Then I’d have to spend time with Rob and his family as well, yikes. No, when I returned I would treat Angie out for coffee, just hang out at Starbucks down the road. Anything to break the monotony.

I sighed and went back to reading my email. Kale666@gmail, jumped out in red letters. It was obvious spam, but they weren’t wrong, kale is the devil. 

As soon as i clicked delete the screen tuned a sickly yellow hue and the letters turned blood red. The words became mangled and began to melt down the screen.

I swore under my breath, there was a virus embedded into this demonic salad. Now I had to call IT, all to have some condescending jaskass mansplain to me about clicking outside emails or remote into my sytem. Right when I was about to dial the overhead lights dimmed before winking out into darkness, along with my phone and computer.

A flashlight glowed as a few security guards came to check out the breaker room. 

“We’ll get the generator back up in no time, you guys sit tight, ” said Ralph. The kindly old man was the the head security guard. With him stood Jarvis, a laid back security guard that held the flashlight.

Another loud hum and the generator kicked up, shoving a plume of dark smoke into the air. 

“We’re having an electrical outage. I’m going to need y’all to move to building two,” said Ralph.

I sighed, very well, I would pack my stuff and play musical cubicles until they got the problem resolved. Hopefully I’d be able to log into my phone and complete my before the night ended. The lights flashed again as Ralph grumbled.

We packed up our things to move to the building next door. This night couldn’t end soon enough, but at least I’d be off for the week after my shift.

I tried to turn my computer on one last time to sign out, this time the screen lit up black with blood red drips of code oozing down the page. Random letters filling out the word ZALGO. Zalgo? I remembered hearing about Zalgo as some internet boogeyman, some dark god that infected coding.

Ralph let out an agonizing scream as his his body floated in in the air. I froze as a spindly figure slammed him repeatedly against the floor. He screamed until his voice became wet gurgles. The creature tossed against the wall, leaving a trail of blood as he slid down. 

“GET OUT!” I screamed at the creature as I pushed all my will at it. I was terrified, but also angry that this creature, this bug would dare terrorize me at my work. Oh, this was on like donky kong.

The spindly creature screamed and unnatural high pitched sound before fading into the wall. Pressure surrounded me and the air grew freezing. My breath came out in cold puffs against the dimming florescent lights. Rob coward under his desk, whispering the lords prayer, I knelt down beside him. 

“This has to be a dream, some nightmare. I’m going to wake up next to my wife in a few minutes,” his eyes were desperate and gleaming with tears.

“I’m afraid not. We’re going to have to dig our heels in and fight. The only way out of this is through-”

“What are you talking about?”

“Long story, I’ll explain later we don’t have time.”

“I’m going to need y’all to stay down!” said Jarvis. His laid back demeanor changed, his eyes became hard as he crouched and explored the territory, he held out a taser in front of him. 

His radio made a static garbled sound as the lights flickered around us. Jarvis walked along side the wall, nervously glancing at the perimeter. I curled under my desk, numb from shock. 

Movement flashed in the inky blackness, and I crawled under the desk next to Rob. A shadow in the darkness out of the corner of my eye that would slip back into the shadows when I looked at it head on.

All I wanted was a day off, I had put in weeks of overtime to have this vacation and this thing was not going to take it away from me. I needed to find Jarvis , pull the fire alarm and run the hell out of dodge. Let the authorities or a priest deal with this. What happened to Ralph was horrible and I would not let that happen to anyone else. I wasn’t about to sit around and play victim to this thing.

I inched carefully towards Robs desk, and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and bear hugged me so tight the air was knocked out of me. 

“I have a wife and kids. Oh God, what did I do to deserve any of this?”

“Dude, I can’t breath.”

He released his grip on me as the air rushed back into my lungs.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. The second thing I need you to do is to stop panicking. I have a plan to escape, but we’re going to have to find Jarvis.”

“But he’s security, he can handle himself-”

“Not against this thing.” I reached in my shirt and pulled out my pentacle. “I’ve worked with spirits before, most are harmless but this bug is malevolent. It’s time for me to crack the Raid out.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I have no clue, but I’d rather improvise a plan and risk getting out of here alive than giving up. You have faith, you’ll need it. Hang on to it, it’ll be the one thing that grounds yourself against it.”

From my experiences in ghost hunting and research, malignant spirits fed on those with little direction or sense of self. That’s why faith banished them, it was you calling in on your higher self, hell, even an atheist could banish it if they had enough belief in themselves and the solid world around them, just replace “may the power of Christ compel you with , ‘you won’t ruin my reality’.” For me it was “I reject your reality and substitute it with my own!” bad choice of works in fact checking or politics, but golden in fighting malevolent spirits.

I held my breath as I crept along the edge of the office wall, the creature flitting through the shadows, just out of my sight. The coward was avoiding me, perhaps escape was going to be easy. Jarvis was standing at the corner, his gun pointed and his eyes scanning the area. A dark inky shadow slipped away, the hum growing louder as the office went from pitch black to a sickly yellow light.

“Jarvis?”

He turned around, his gun trained on me, I raised my hands in submission.

“Erika! I told you and Rob to remain in place!”

“I know.”

Jarvis lowered his gun and took a deep breath. “What the hell is going on?”

“This is going to sound a little woo woo, but what we’re not up against a human intruder-”

“I’m gonna tell you something, this place was always a bit off, especially at night. But I didn’t say nothing, as long as the bills were paid. So what if the lights occasionally flickered or the computers froze, that’s normal night shit, right? Tell me why they hired a security guard when they need a motherfucking exorcist or some shit?”

“I am an exorcist. Well, at least I am for my coven.”

“You can fight this thing? You saw what it did to Ralph?”

“ The worst thing you can do right now is panic and feed this thing energy. That’s why I need you to calm down.”

Jarvis stared at me blankly, I my reflection gleamed in his dark eyes, and behind me a shadow crept. I rushed to his other side and the being skittered away. 

“It’s afraid of me,” I said.

Rob slowly walked from around the corner. 

“All right. Everyone is accounted for, treat it like an active shooter drill. We need ot reach the door,” I said.

The lights flickered off and we ran towards the exit door at the end of the office, only to find it locked.

Jarvis grabbed my hand and I grabbed Robs as we made it toward the other door only to find that it was also locked. 

“Oh come on! Out of every trope possible!” I punched the door with my hand only to yelp and shake the pain out of my knuckles.

“So what do we do now?” asked Rob. His eyes pleading for help.

“The only thing I can do, fight it.”

We ran down to the break room, the lights flashed on and off before we got there. I led them through the door slamming it behind me. I found the salt shakers and salt packets and poured out a rough circle. Dizzyness hit me like a wave and the pressure dropped so fast that both of my ears popped. Shadows formed into a long spindly creature, like it was shoved together out of old coat hangers and ink. It reached through the door and cried when it hit the salt. 

Rob clutched his cross pendent as Jarvis aimed his gun.

“Don’t shoot, it won’t do any good. Rob keep praying.” I grabbed a handful of salt packets. “I’m going , if I don’t come back, call Mark and tell him that I love him.” I handed Jarvis my phone, my husband’s contact information on the front page.

“You can’t lay that on me, let me go with you.” Jarvis aimed toward the window, awaiting the creature to return.

“I need you to stay with Rob.” I opened the door and walked out into the office. The lights returned to a sickly yellow and the screams became more distant. Whatever this thing was, it didn’t want to deal with me. It wanted the men and I prayed to Gaia that the salt was enough to repel it.

The creature screamed , it clicked like nails on a chalkboard. I tried each of the doors, all of them locked. The hallway seemed like a maze of doorways and florescent lights. I tried each door, jiggling each handle to no avail. Until I reached the stairway at the end of the hall, that doorway opened with little problem.

The sky ungulated with purple and blue swirls though the windows. Another wave of dizziness hit me as I climbed the stairs toward the top floor. The spindly creature crouched at the stairway, leaning like a praying mantis, it’s eyes peering at me . It screeched again and leapt up to the top floor.

I chased after it, the lights flickering on behind me as I chased it. I honestly had no idea what I would do if I caught up to it. A salt packet certainly wasn’t going to kill it and I had no weapon. I regretted not listening to Jarvis. 

I went to the empty breakroom by roof in our building. I rummaged through all the cabinets but all I found was a plastic spoon and a couple of trays. 

Lightning flashed revealing the monster couched in praying mantis form, a portal swirling behind it. Perhaps that was were it came from, why it chose to attack an office in night shift was beyond me. 

I walked out onto the roof and the wind started to blow. The creature lunged for me but I ducked back. I threw some salt in its direction and it shrieked at me. I felt the ground beneath my feet. I was going to go on vacations, this creature was not going to ruin it for me. 

Two gunshots fired and the creature screamed. Jarvis stood in the doorway his gun in perfect aim with the creature. 

“I told you not to come in here!”

“Ericka, I need you to stay back-”

“It’s non corporeal-”

Jarvis began to float in the air, the creature taking control of his body.. 

“I am the daughter of Gia, the Daughter of the Hecate and Morrigan!” 

The creature shrieked and Jarvis dropped to the ground. Rob followed confidently behind him, holding the cross out in front of him. 

“Down into the ground and among the roots, out of our leaves and shoots. Leave as all be, you have no power over me!” I chanted.

The swirling clouds overhead were pierced by bright sunlight. The creature leapt at Jarvis but Rob and I stood in it’s way, forming a wall between it and the security guard.

Full sunlight hit the creature and it screamed one last time before turning into a pile of dust beneath our feet. And we both fell, exhausted in the morning sun.

I walked into back into the breakroom to find all the lights back on in their pale, florescent glory. The doors once again opened and I followed the stairs down. Ralph’s lifeless body lie on the first floor. But it was no longer mangled, but still and cold. Jarvis called 911 and soon sirens sounded in the background.

“You saved my life,” said Jarvis. “You both did.”

“What do we tell the police when they show up?” asked Rob.

“That there was a power outage and Ralph had a medical emergency. That’s what the coverup will be.” I sighed.

“How did you know what to do?” 

“It’s a long story.”

Long story indeed. I managed to defeat this creature easily, but who sent it? The beast wasn’t intelligent enough to come up with it’s own plan. Someone set it on us, and I sat thinking of everyone I could have offended. A customer would have no idea who I was outside of work, so that idea was out. Perhaps it had nothing to do with me, and it was some lover’s quarrel or someone upset and wanting vengeance on their boss. 

To cover my bases I took a salt shaker and sprinkled them around the building. I thought of a steel wall covering the office building. I hoped it was enough of a ward to last until I returned to work next week.” I would stay for a few more hours and answer questions from the authorities. My work had better pay me overtime for this. 

My vacation couldn’t come fast enough, I wanted to go hiking on a mountain pass far from phones and civilization. You best believe Mark was driving me out there after the night I’ve had.

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The screams of my brothers and the smell of burning flesh cut through the damp air of the oubliette. I am cast down to the depths of hell, a small pit. The walls stand high above me. I only have room to stand on burned and blistered feet. My hands are tied so tight that they’ve turned the color of wine. 

“Lord forgive them; they know not what they do!” I screamed a thousand times. The King of France ordered this upon us. We would not lend more gold, so they now torture us for heresy. But the King and the Pope are the only heretics here. 

My body is next to burn on the pyre. After they break my bones and extract my confession, The gargled scream of my brothers as the horses scream and run in opposite directions. 

A giant brute pulls me out of the prison and straps me to a table. The lashes of the whip tear through my skin. The brute turns a wheel and my muscles stretch and tear, my bones pop out of their sockets. Bright spots of pain move through mine eyes.

“Confess!” speaks the brute.

But, they’ll obtain a curse before a confession.

“May the Lord curse you, and your punishment be death. May our blood stain you, and may this day be remembered in infamy. The thirteenth, the day that Judas betrayed Christ for thirty pieces of silver. So have the King and the Pope betrayed their loyal knights for our coffers. This day will never be pure again, and you all will perish.” 

The pain is greater than hell itself as the brute tears me in half. Our blood will mark this day, and our memories will never perish. I say this on Friday the 13th of October, in the year of our Lord 1307.

Sarah Herbison

Sweat dripped down Don Carmichel’s face, the sweltering air stank of sulfur. His ankle twisted in in the opposite direction, bits of bone were poking through his dungarees. He dragged himself toward the entrance, gravel cut into his hands. Sharp pain agonized his every move, the torn muscle in his leg screamed. He crawled toward door, he only to get out and seal the exit. It was supposed to have been a simple plan, but simple plans don’t succeed in the face of the enemy.

Donald Carmicheal was a private investigator just outside of Baltimore Maryland. He had grown tired of spying on unfaithful couples and answered an add in the hills of Pennsylvania. B&N Mining were in search of a good spy to infiltrate their workers. Whispers of a Union traveled and the mining company had no tolerance for a strike. The country was still reeling from the Battle of Blair Mountain a few years prior.

Don agreed to the assignment and began to work as a miner. The hours were long and hard in the dark coal mines. He would cough up black soot every night and his body ached. He overheard the fellow workers talk about being paid poorly and in company scrip. They would go to work injured because they couldn’t afford a doctor and most of them looked half starved. Don didn’t blame them for wanting better pay and it was hard for him not to take thier side, but he was hired to do a job for B&N. 

The workers spoke of a rally lead by Stanly Collins, a member of the United Mine Workers. Stanly traveled and began unions in various mining towns around Pennslyvania and West Virginia. His voice was loud and charismatic, and within him the worn faces of the workers found hope . 

 Don reported this to the Higher Ups, and they assigned the private investigator with finding any dirt on Stanly. The man was clean, didn’t drink, didn’t so much as smoke, went to church and doted on his ten year old son. There was no talk of a wife, so Don figured the man was a widower. 

 The higher ups thought about killing Stanley in an accident, but that would make him a martyr and the workers would strike to spite B&N. No, they needed to create a distraction for Mr. Collins, a way to stop him in his tracks. Mr. Collins had a ten year old son, Caleb, that son was thier advantage. 

 They asked Don to catch him and hide him in a mine shaft until . It would only be for a couple of days, and the boy would be unhurt. All he had to do was keep an eye on him, after Mr. Collins agreed to call off the strike his boy would be returned back to him unharmed, it was as simple as that. 

The prospect didn’t sit well with Don, but who was he to argue with the Higher Ups, he’d seen how they handled defiance before. Getting fired and evicted would be the least of his problems if he were to disobey. 

The Higher Ups told Stanly’s son Caleb worked as hurrier for the mine. He would load coal carts and help push them through narrow passages that grown men were too big to fit through. Caleb would report the horrible conditions back to his Papaw and his Papaw would run his mouth to the UMW. It wouldn’t be hard to find Caleb after a shift and catch him. 

Don walked on over to where the hurriers worked, the shaft was so short that he had to walk bent over. He jumped as a mine cart sideswiped him, the small brat pushing it yelled out “ watch where you’re going mister.” Don didn’t pay him no mind, the whelp would grow bow legged and stooped, succumbing to black lung like the rest of his unwashed brethren.

Don was saving Caleb from a life of servitude. Even if he followed in his father’s footsteps and organized unions, how much better could the bowls of the earth be? There’d always be hard work and heavy coal, no union would change that. 

He found Caleb with a group of other boys. Soot covering his face, only white sleeveless shirt and dungarees. A boy his age should be fishing or playing in the woods , not digging in no mine shaft. His father’s hypocrisy knew no bounds when it came to getting his agenda across. If Stanly Collins cared about his son, he would be in school, along with all the other children. 

Don walked up to the boy and kneeled to his level. “Are you Caleb Collins?”

“Yes Sir,” said the boy. His voice sounded tired and older than his years. 

“I have some bad news, you’re daddy has been hurt awful bad, and I need you to come with me.”

Instead of looking surprised, Caleb stared at him with deep black eyes. The stare made Don’s blood turn cold. 

“It’s urgent, he…uh… he needs you now,” Don managed to stutter out, his tongue had turned to clay.

“Yes Sir,” was all the boy said.

Don’s stomach dropped in that moment and he almost reconsidered his plan. He took a deep breath. Donald Carmicheal wasn’t terrified of no ten year old. He was going to take him somewhere deep in the mine and hold him until his daddy agreed to negotiate with the Higher Ups.

As he led the boy deeper down the mine shaft Don’s uneasiness grew. He thought about quitting, telling boy the truth and letting him go back to work, hell, letting the boy leave the mine all together. But the higher ups would put his head on a pike if he even considered this to be an option. 

“Where are ya taken me?” asked Caleb. His voice had gone flatter and his whole eyes had turned solid black for a second.

“It… It’s just a little further down the mine shaft, son.”

“I ain’t your son! My daddy works on the upper levels, why ain’t you bringing me there?”

“Y…You’re father was on a special project with us, please it’s just a little further-”

“No he ain’t , the owner’s of this here mine would never let him in on a higher project.”

“D… don’t make this hard for me, boy.”

“You have no idea who I am, do you sir?”

Don turned around and once again, Caleb’s eyes went coal black. Inky tendrils of shadow formed and went up the walls of the mine. Stone cracked and crumbled around them. The boy’s skin cracked and peeled into oozing sores as he crept towards him. 

“What in hell are you?” Don began to run up the mineshaft, but the inky coils formed on the rocks around him, forming fissures and cracks. The air turned hot and stank of sulfur as the mine began to crumble underneath them.

“I think you already know.” Caleb’s voice turned flat and was so deep it made Don nauseous and uneasy. It was old scratch himself, coming to collect on his soul. He should have sided with Stanly and the miners. He could have found an assignment with the UMW and helped turn the situation on thier side. Helped them organize a strike so it gave them doctors and schools but now it was too little too late. 

Caleb followed him , his tendrils grasping for Don through the stone. The child’s skin flaked off as oily tentacles grabbed at Don. The workers panicked and ran out toward the exit, causing a jam at the door, their screams echoing in the chamber the stone began to crumble.

“Let them go, this is between us, they don’t need to suffer, what would you’re daddy think-”

“My daddy? You mean my host.” With that the monster’s tendrils went out through the staircase, toppling it and the crowd to the depths below. As they screamed in terror a boulder fell smashing in on Don’s ankle. Waves of excruciating pain went through his body causing him to vomit. The smell of sulfur and half digested fried chicken was too much for him to bear, his lungs tightened for air. The staircase was gone, but a narrow path that led toward the exit, cool breeze exited the doorway, giving him a ray of hope. 

Caleb slammed down blocking his exit. Inky, oily tendrils snaked around Don’s body and squeezed tight, the veins in Caleb’s forehead grew larger as Don’s life force leached away. His body weakened as his eyes closed for the final time. Half the workers managed to make it out alive, Stanly among them. Cries echoed from the outside as the mine collapsed in on itself. 

In the weeks following the mine collapse, the B&N mine company negotiated with the United Mine Workers for a fair deal. Stanlhy Collins and his son Caleb quit the mining business and settled into the nearby village of Junction Maryland, where Stanly was elected sheriff. He was thankful to be one of the few that made it out of the mine alive. 

Though he was unsure where his son came from, he never remembered ever having a wife. Whenever he thought to question the boy, he looked at him with solid black eyes, and Stanly always forgot the question. It was all well and fine , they would make peace in this small town. 

By Sarah Herbison

It was a quiet day in the abbey, the morning sun shone cooly on the dark flagstones and overgrown husks and thorns of the garden in winter. Brother Marcus sung as he tested the soil, as sighing in resignation as the frost held fast. He bundled his plain woolen robe around his thin body as he plodded up the staircase to the chapel. 

Marcus entered the small chapel, it was covered in stained glass depictions of the saints and a small cushion lay on bare stone past the half dozen pews. He lit a candle and began to chant his prayers when a cold wind blew out his candle, leaving him alone in the dark, save for the soft glow of the saints and angels in the stained glass. A sharp knock broke him from his trance.

Ah, fie this for a lark, he thought, before quickly crossing himself for the sinful thought of being annoyed. Marcus walked to the gate to find a haggard old woman about to knock a second time. She gazed at him with a weary expression, she was dressed in rags and behind her sat an old mule. For a second, her gaze turned cold enough to chill him to the bone.

“What brings ya here, Mam?” he asked politely.

“Sir, my village has been pillaged and I only seek refuge,” she said. Her voice sounded cracked and she let off a racking cough.

“Well, then come in. Yea look like something the cat dragged in if yea don’t mind me sayin’,” said Marcus. Truth be told, the abbey was closed to women, however, the hag was so old and feeble he severely doubted the Abbot would mind. He lead her into the kitchen and gave her some simple porridge with a hunk of bread.

“I hope this suites you , Man, we live a humble life here.”

The old lady trembled, tears in her eyes. “It is more kindness than any other place I have tried. I’ve tried stopping at Inns and they turned me away at the mere sight of me.” 

“We’re God’s house, we don’t turn away the sick, the poor or the stranger, you are welcome here as long as yea like. I do have to speak to the Abbot, but I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

“Thank you so very much Brother-”

“Marcus,” he nodded as he gave the old woman another bowl of porridge and bread, which she ate hungrily. 

After she supped they went down to the Abbot, the stern old man looked at the Hag in her robes. After hearing her story he polished his glasses and gave her a kindly smile.

“Whilst this abbey is sanctioned for Monks and our Brotherhood, I see no harm in you staying for a bit. Though, if you wish, our Sisters assist with the Cathedral and collect alms, you may be more comfortable with them.”

“No, thank you sir, I only need a few days to rest and to heal, and I will trouble you no longer,” the old woman said in a weary voice.

“As you wish. Marcus will show you where the spare room is. Keep note that our life is but a humble one, and we ask for silence during the day.”

“Thank you so much for your kindness sir.” The old woman was once again near tears.

“We are all welcome in God’s eyes, we are here to feed the sick and take in the worn. I am but his messenger,” said the Abbot as gathered up his keys and left the room.

Marcus showed the old woman to her room, it was simple with a straw bed and a crucifix and a tiny window. 

“The Abbot has called for a physician, that shall attend to your wounds, M’am,” said Marcus as he left the old woman in her room. As he did, a cold wind passed him chilling him to the bone.

The following week went by uneventfully, the Hag ate her humble meals silently. She did sit and listen to them chant, saying their voices soothed her rattled nerves. But other than her cold stare during choir practice, none of the monks noticed her. However, Brother Marcus could always feel her cold eyes on him, even when she was nowhere to be seen. The mule grew restless and nearly kicked him when he tried to feed the beast. 

The physician came and mended her wounds and at the end the week she packed up her things. The Abbot offered to find her a paladin to safeguard her journey, but the old woman stated that would not be necessary and thanked them for thier kindness.

“You will be rewarded tenfold for what you have given me, sir,” said the Hag, her cold eyes piercing through Marcus and the Abbot as she left the abbey. Her walk was much stronger and she appeared to be in good health. The Abbot only wished she would have stayed with the Sisters or took his offer of protection, but if the old lady thought it was fair for her to travel, who was he to argue. As she road her mule into the village, large, swirling storm clouds lay overhead. 

Half a fortnight passed and the Black Death gripped the village below. The plague started with the Innkeepers and grew to the great Cathedral. The stench permiated the air and villagers prayed and moaned for thier suffering to end as thier bodies blackened with sores.

The abbey, however, remained untouched. Even as pilgrims sought refuge and were treated by the physician, not one of the brother’s fell ill. In fact, their physician managed to heal a few of the stricken with frequent baths and packs of herbs. Brother Marcus was healthy but exhausted as his days were filled with finding fresh beds and medicines for the sick that sought refuge. 

As he was gathering wool blankets, Brother Marcus felt tice shoot through his blood. He wrapped one of the blankets around him as a loud knock sounded at the gate. He ran toward the gate to see the Hag standing on the other side, her icy glare cut straight through him.

“I said I would grant you a gift tenfold, you have the gift of a humble life when the world around you is stricken,” she said.

“I was only doing God’s work, as we do for all the sick and the weary,” said Marcus.

“You have done more of God’s work than the Cathedral down below, they turned me away as did all of the Inns.”

Fear pierced Marcus’ heart as the old woman’s icy stare turned toward him. “ But you, you followed God’s plan and get to live.”

“I.. I only answered the door when you knocked,” stammered Marcu.

“Exactly.” The old woman cracked her knuckles. “I only knock twice.” 

Fear froze the Monk’s heart as he turned away from the Abby’s door, finding it completely empty.

My high beams cut through the darkness of the night. It was a new moon and the clouds covered every last star in the sky. I was on a dirt road surrounded by forest. The leaves of late autumn covered the path. The stereo blared Joy Division’s Lost Souls, the stark gothic rock matching the gloom and lonely road. 

A small child darted in the middle of the road, I slammed my brakes but the wet leaves made it difficult to stop. I swerved sharply to avoid collision only to hit the child by the driver’s side door. The visceral thud and bump of the tires were followed by a shriek of pain so loud my heart nearly stopped.

My hands were shaking and I could barely breathe. The kid darted out in front of me, in the middle of the night. Trick or treating was earlier, but not at midnight, not in the middle of nowhere. My phone had no signal and was playing from a downloaded track.

I opened the door to the car, it was stiff from the impact. A splash of blood painted the door but nobody was there. I checked under the car and the surrounding area, but nothing. The woods were silent except for the rustle of leaves. 

“Hey, kid, I’m going to get help!” 

I dialed 911 but no one answered, no signal the call disconnected. I needed to find this kid. Blood trailed outside my car leading off into the forest and into a steep embankment. I followed it and a piercing cry cut through the darkness. 

“Don’t worry, I’m coming!” I yelled into the darkness.” 

I ran toward the cry, stumbling over rocks as I went. I followed the cry until I found the edge of the ravine and it morphed into a maniacal laughter. The laughter grew louder and louder until a force pushed me down the ravine. My leg snapped and unbearable pain shot through my body. 

The child appeared over me, as they raised a rock over my head, a twisted grin on their face.