Ficlets

To Face the Nightwalkers

Years pass. Mother’s soul has long since climbed the Tree of Hope. Tabitha’s baby has grown strong, a strapping young man now. Tyson.

They, the nightwalkers, are out there, and at night we board the doors shut. Our hamlet has grown, yet so have their numbers. And they have become more tenacious, walking our lamplit street and preying upon the drunk or foolhardy, to come back in our nightmares.

I recall the night Daniel came back. I don’t know how I knew him in the cool dusk air, but it was him, grey and clammy….dripping as he approached the porch. He stopped, clapping his rubbery hands onto cracked and swollen ears, and bellowed a piercing cry of agony. I dropped the parchment I held and ran into the house to ring the warning bell.

Many friends have been taken, we hope to never see them again. The nightwalkers spoil our crops, we live in fear of the dark.

By day we ready for war. There is no prophecy, no magic ray of hope. We have the strong arm of Tyson, the will of the men, and our anger.

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