[b]THE WATCHER[/b]

That winter day was grey. A thick snowfall prevented seeing far ahead, this was true for most beings. But there was a raven with beady eyes and a spot of blood on his neck who was blessed with a vision to see around even when the visibility was poor, it was his duty to patrol on these desolate lands, for his master, the Lone King. The cold wind was blowing and made the raven shiver a little as he flew around the borders of the kingdom, although there were no living creatures in this area. Even the trees were dead, decayed and their dry corpses were reaching for the heavens that tended to be dark even when weather was pleasant. This was a cursed land and it was ruled by Lone King who had taken over the ancient castle on the mountain. It had been abandoned long time ago, nobody knows why, but now it was filled with the malice of the King and there were no one except ghosts of the past that lived with him in there. But he was fine by this, not wanting anyone near his castle unless he had invited them. It was the raven's duty to spot the intruders and then the King would do the rest.

So, keeping watchful eye on the kingdom with nobody, the raven was flying around his usual route. Usually, not a single soul would come to the cursed land, but sometimes, different beings could get lost in this area, ranging from humans to beasts. No one was welcome and that's why the raven was on patrol all day, every day, for he was cursed to be on the move constantly, he wasn't allowed to rest much. And that day, his efforts paid off as he spotted a small group of humans who had got lost because of the heavy snowfall. From that moment, he began to follow them, watching them carefully and how they were blindly making their way to the castle, which was now hidden from the view because of the snow. Occasionally the raven would stop and sit in a tree while stalking the people, but he knew that he had to alarm the Lone King soon.

“Master! Master!” he cawed loudly, but obviously the lost humans didn't understand him – he was a raven after all.

Lone King did hear this through the connection he shared with the raven. And so, the black bird stayed still, keeping his eye on the intruders, waiting for his master to arrive.

A ferocious roar could be heard from the distance. The King was on the move. The sound of his voice scared the three people and they stopped on their tracks and looked around worriedly. After a brief moment they decided to continue. Eventually the raven could see a large figure that was flying high above them; it was like a white death had approached them. The raven felt anxious and afraid, but also excited, and he watched the brutal play that was presented to him.

A white wyvern appeared behind the snow curtain and roared once again, striking fear into the hearts of the people. Desperately they tried to flee, but it was futile. Lone King opened his mouth and a purple breath of fire got targeted at the humans. They got engulfed by the cursed flames and were writhing in agony as the fire was burning them alive painfully slowly. The raven could smell the scent of burning flesh which made him even more excited. Lone King had landed in front of his victims, just watching how they were dying slow and agonizing deaths.

When the last screams had faded into the snow and the corpses of three people were laying on the ground, Lone King began his feast. One by one they disappeared in his maw until nothing else remained but a piece of an arm; a little reward for the raven. Then the wyvern left the scene, got in to the air and flew back to his castle.

As soon as the King had left, the raven dared to descend to the ground where the leftovers remained. He began to eat the scorched flesh with a good appetite, it had been a while since the last time he had eaten. He ate as much as he could and just like his master did a while ago, he flew away to continue his patrol duty.

Just a little piece of meat and bone was everything that remained of the poor people who had got lost into Lone King's land. They weren't the first and definitely not the last. It was only a matter of time before the next being would suffer the same fate.



[b]LORD OF THE NIGHT[/b]

Rumors spread fast like wildfire in a small town like Morkynia. People were whispering from ear to ear that a monster had found its way to their town. It was something terrifying that hunted during the darkest hours, it lurked in the shadows and anyone could become its prey. This creature was new to the townsfolk, but because of the stories they had heard from around the world, they knew what it was: a vampire, a blood-sucking abomination. They could tell because of the two marks on the necks of the first victims, the wounds that had ensued as fangs had punctured the skin. A worry, even fear, had snuck into the hearts of people, and since people had the tendency to gossip, soon the whole Morkynia was living in distress. It became sort of an unwritten rule that one shouldn't leave their house during the night time if they valued their lives.

However, there were still people who would dare to step on the nightly streets of Morkynia. Everybody had their own story; everybody had their own reasons. Quite a handful of these people were too foolish to stay in, drunk or just homeless beggars, but there were also those who embraced the night time and moved under the cover of darkness.

And one of them was on the move that night.

A young woman was hiding among the black shadows which the buildings had casted. She even moved as silently as the shades, and she hid her identity with a black cape and hood. She looked very much suspicious and that was true; she was a wandering thief who traveled from place to place, practicing her shady business. She could steal anything as long as the price was right. Now she had arrived to Morkynia, hoping to find clients and make some money. The tavern was probably the best place where to seek what she was looking for, so she bounced from shadow to shadow, heading to her destination.

When she turned around one of the many corners of buildings she had passed that night, she noticed someone walking along the street, much to her surprise. She had heard about the monster rumor as well. Swiftly she retreated out of sight, took a couple of deep breaths and carefully glanced back at the street to spy on the stranger.

Even in darkness she could tell that this tall figure was a very handsome man, in fact he was so gorgeous that she had trouble to look away from him. He had beautiful face and long blond hair. His silvery eyes were gleaming in the occasional light sources from the homes of townsfolk. He was dressed in a blue, lavish attire which hinted that he was a nobleman. All in all he was very elegant sight and there was something oddly mystifying about him, and the woman had to force herself to look away from him. She hid herself to the darkest shadows, pondering why a man like that was walking alone during the night. She stayed hidden, waiting for the man to pass.

She watched how the man walked past her hideout and she was almost ready to dash to the direction where he had come from. But then the man stopped suddenly. He turned around and his silvery eyes looked right in her eyes. She was shocked by this; she had been so sure that he wouldn't notice her. She was frozen in place; she couldn't move even an inch for some reason. The thief could only watch how the man came closer to her.

Soon he was standing right in front of her and he had a smile on his face, but to the woman, it was unsettling. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek tenderly.

“Don't you know, dear, that nights are dangerous?” he spoke with a soft voice.

The woman couldn't reply, her gaze was fixated on the man's eyes. She was like hypnotized, her will was nonexistent. In that moment, the man's silvery eyes were the center of the world.

The man revealed his fangs, running his hand down from the woman's face to her neck. “But don't you worry. Dead people feel no fear.”

He attacked, sinking his fangs into the woman's neck, starting to violently drink her blood, all the while she was mesmerized. Soon she became limp and the man had to take a hold of her in order to steal all the body fluid that kept her alive. In the end she became an empty husk, another victim of the monster, and her lifeless body hit the pavement when the man was finished with her. He licked his lips that were now dyed red by the blood and looked at the body for a while.

“Such a pretty lady”, he muttered to himself. “I should have played with you more.”

He turned around and began to walk away from the fresh corpse. He disappeared into the night, his thirst now satisfied, and the rest of the townsfolk could now feel relief for a few days since he didn't have to hunt until the next moonless night.



[b]LONELY TUNE[/b]

The light of the setting sun gilded the sky. Another day was coming to an end and, like the setting sun, people started to get some rest after a productive day. Travelers were seeking for shelter from the small village and a lot of them gathered to the old tavern. Vorgaarn was one of those people who was on his own journey, but unlike others, he kept passing through the village. He did make a quick stop at the well to fill his flask, but other than that, he just moved through. Without drawing attention of the villagers, he soon disappeared from the sight and continued on his way to the woods.

Vorgaarn followed the narrow path that led to the shady forest. The darkness was coming faster to the world of shadows created by the trees, but he could still see around. He tried his best to carry on even though he was getting tired. For the sake of the people in the village, he had to get as far as he could. He was a cursed man, he would turn into a beast every full moon, and unfortunately tonight that would happen. He had offended Goddess of Moon and thus was cursed by her. And every time he became a werewolf, he felt like he lost a small bit of his humanity, permanently. Just how long he could keep going before the beast in him would take over completely? He didn't know, but he had to stay dedicated to his path of revenge.

Eventually he had to admit that he was too exhausted to keep going. He just had to hope that he was far away enough from the village. He sat down near a tree, his back leaning against its trunk. He sighed a little as he let his gaze wander around him, but his surroundings were filled with greenery and shadows. The last rays of sunshine barely were able to get through the branches of the trees. Soon the darkness would come, but the moonlight would illuminate the world instead and awake the beast within him.

One might think that the person with werewolf curse would be terrified of the full moon. But at that moment, Vorgaarn was calm. He took a flute he had made by himself from his belt and started to play. The forest was filled with his music, it was a tune he had composed himself for his wife. He had used to play this tune for her quite often as she had loved it so much. It had sounded really lovely back then, but nowadays, it had gotten a sad ring to it and it sounded lonely more than anything. Vorgaarn missed his wife often, it was the reason why he had taken the path of revenge. There was nothing left in his life except this. By playing this melody, he felt like he was still connected to his wife. So he kept playing it, over and over again, remembering the happy memories he had shared with her.

He played the tune so long that the sky had turned dark. That was when he finally stopped and put his flute away. Soon the moon would rise and he would become a horrible beast. He could already feel it awakening inside of him, waiting to be unleashed. He could only look forward to the transformation to begin and pray that he wouldn't hurt anybody.

The moon was up in the night sky. A little of its light managed to touch Vorgaarn and that was enough to start his transformation. He bended over as the beast was coming out of him. His nails became claws which he used to rip off his own skin to reveal a beast's fur coat. His anatomy shifted and the shape of his head changed. In a matter of seconds, he had become a beast and he howled at the moon after his transformation was complete. He ran into the dark woods, seeking for prey. He was a merciless beast that just wanted to kill and feast, there was not a single bit of humanity left in him, not tonight. 

Other wanderers of the night had to beware.



[b]LET THEM SLEEP[/b]

Just another day in hell. It was daytime and the dead sun was up in the sky, but its light was cold and induced madness in certain people. Although when the darkness was enveloping the world and it was the most dangerous time to venture out, some people would fall victim to the mad ones during the day as well as the light wouldn't protect anyone from monsters. And so, at that moment, a poor man was being dragged along the dusty old road, dry sand leaving dust clouds behind. The man's mouth was gagged with a cloth, and yet, he still tried to scream for mercy and help. His hands and feet were tied up. A long rope that was attached to his leg bindings was being held by his captor, a tall and rather lanky looking man whose skin had turned grayish after spending so much time in this hell hole. But his looks were deceiving and he could easily drag the man with no difficulties at all. This was the road he had walked so many times before and he was marching on it in a quite schematic manner as this had become a routine to him. Despite of the man's muffled cries, he kept going on.

The road was a long one, partly paved but most of the stone tiles were buried in sand now. It was the main street of a small cluster of houses where nobody lived, usually. Sometimes people would seek refuge from them and today, this was the case. From the shadows of the dark buildings few figures were peeking, fear imprinted on their faces. The dragged man's fate could happen to any of them and they knew it. They watched silently how the tall man and his victim moved past them, thanking their luck that it wasn't one of them that had been chosen today.

Eventually the road took them to a cemetery. For a brief moment the tall man stopped on his tracks and looked around. He was scanning the burial grounds with his gaze, but continued on his way soon. He was dragging his victim further into the area that was terrifyingly silent. He passed dead trees and graves, some of them being old ones and some still had fresh soil on them. He searched for a while and found what he was looking for after walking around the graves. He let go of the rope and left the poor man lay on the ground. The tall man picked up the shovel he had left near a dead tree earlier along with a casket, for his own convenience. He started to dig the dry soil as the dragged man could only watch helplessly what he was doing. His eyes were wide from fear as he realized that the one who had brought him there was digging his grave.

The tall man was in no rush. He had nothing but time in this world. He kept digging leisurely, but each passing minute felt agonizing to his victim. Desperately he tried to conjure plans to escape, but there was nothing he could do. He fought against his bindings, but in the end, he could only wait in terror. He had been fairly new to this world and didn't fully know the rules, so he thought that he was getting buried alive and die. However, that was only partly true.

Nothing was allowed to die.

The evening was coming when the tall man was done digging the grave. He dropped the shovel to the ground and walked to his victim and took a hold of the rope again, then started to drag the poor man again, for a last time. The victim still tried to struggle, but in vain. He got pulled to the casket that was waiting for him and the tall man heaved him up with ease and dropped him roughly to the casket. Real panic ensued when the lid was put on, closing him into a world of darkness. The poor man could hear a banging noise; the tall man was hammering the nails. He tried to kick the lid off, but it was too late. The tall man threw the casket to the grave and began to shovel the dirt on top of it.

The tall man had saved this person. He would be safe under the ground, sleeping, not encountering the horrors of this world, just like so many others that he had found worth saving. He was doing a noble job.

And when he was done with the new grave, he made his way to the dilapidated shack that was barely standing near the cemetery. It was his humble workshop where he made the caskets and as he was in a dire need for more, he would have to spend time crafting them.

Then he would seek more people to save.



[b]THE HUNTING HOUR[/b]

The most feared time of the day had arrived in the secret city. The roads leading to this settlement had disappeared and now the place was floating in the middle of its own realm, like an island in a sea that was endless. Nobody could enter and nobody could leave. In the heart of the city, stood a great building that resembled a temple of some sort; however it had already crumbled a little, the roof was almost gone and some pillars had fallen and were smashed. The building had probably been a grandiose one back in its early days, but despite the sorry state it was in now, it was still a home to someone.

Inside the temple, the place was a mess just like its exterior. There appeared to be only one large room, the rest were inaccessible because of all the debris. At the far end of the room, opposite from the entrance, there was a throne made of stone. Its appearance followed the theme of the crude building, missing piece here and there, and just like the rest of the temple, it had been gorgeous long time ago. Its beauty had faded, but it was still serving its purpose.

A dark figure was sitting on the throne, looking like she was slumbering. Her head was leaning against her hand that was taking support from the armrest of the throne. Her long black hair was billowing slightly in the weak breeze that was flowing through the building. Up in the clear sky a silvery moon was taking its righteous place to shed the light even to a city like this that wasn't truly the part of the world to which it sometimes connected. And when the moon was aligned just right and its light could bless the crude temple below, its radiance reached the dark skin of the woman and made it glitter.

The moon's glow woke up the woman. She opened up her eyes and shifted her position, sitting on the throne like a queen who was receiving visitors. Then she looked up from the gaping hole in the ceiling and greeted the moon with her gaze. She lifted her body from her throne, but instead of standing up, her tall figure was floating above the floor. Her black cape gave her an ominous looking appearance and if that didn't look threatening enough, she made a sharp motion with her hand and in a puff of black smoke, a scythe appeared and she took the hold it. Its blade was gleaming in the moonlight dangerously and it was ready to sink its teeth into a flesh.

She was ready to begin her hunt. Her eerie figure drifted out of the temple and she started her round around her city, following the main streets. There was a thin mist lingering in the air as she moved forward, seeking for those who didn't belong here. Some terrified residents were peeking from the windows of their homes, fearfully watching her tour, even though they were safe. She was only hunting for those who didn't have her permission to stay in the city. But as her frightening figure passed by the homes of people, many people sighted in relief nonetheless, because she was still a malicious being.

Even though she was an ancient entity, she still was able to feel the thrill of the hunt and enjoying that her appearance induced fear within the hearts of people. Every night she would do this and every night the hunt was the most pleasant thing to perform. She was like a wolf hunting rabbits and she loved the feeling of empower when she thought about her prey covering somewhere in fear, praying that they could live to see another day. Even if she wouldn't find anyone to slay, she would get pleasure from the delight that came from the hunt.

And that night was one of those. She hadn't encountered any of those who didn't belong in her city, but she was satisfied. At dawn she stopped the hunt and her figure floated through the streets, heading back to her temple. The borders of the city would perhaps align with other worlds again, so strangers might enter the area. And if they stay for too long, she would have some more hunting to do.