The moon shines bright in the night sky and no sound stirred in the sleepy village. Candles have been blown out, storefronts closed and even the night watchman sits behind closed doors as he dozes off for the night. No one in the small town saw it as a night different than any other. How very wrong they were. Shortly after midnight some movement began in the woods. It was discreet at first, a branch moving unnaturally or a rock being kicked through the foliage. Standard noises of the woods. Nothing to worry anyone who has lived in this part of the world long enough to be accustomed to wildlife racket. Which is what the creature counted on. Slowly it moved from the forest dragging its long, scaled tail behind it as it made its way close to the village. Still not a sound from the surrounding buildings. The creatures rears back on its hind legs and begins smelling the air. It is looking for weak prey. This is intended to be a quick hunt. After a few sniffs the creature locks onto it’s prey. It stalks right through the middle of town, teeth bared and welcoming an invitation to fight. Nobody accepts. After a few more buildings the creature comes to its quarry. A flock of sheep sleeping in a field. Wasting no time the creature charges the sheep. Loud, terrified bleating fills the air as the creature rips them to shreds. Bits of fur and bone abound and no one who lays eyes upon the sight will soon forget it. Satisfied with its hunger the creature tears back and let’s loose a bloodcurdling howl. It then takes off into the night. Moments later a group of townspeople arrive to the pasture wondering what the noise can be. They carry torches, gardening tools that can double as weapons and guns. When the first man sees the carnage left behind he cries out and faints. Nothing like this has ever happened in the village before. The group stands in shock and stares at each other. Their eyes then drift down to their paltry cache of weapons and the same question sits heavy on every mind. Are we ready for this?

The pounding on the door is what started it. A frantic banging that made me immediately sit up from my book. “Who’s there,” I shout. No answer. Very predictable. After all this is the most haunted place in our small town. A place my uncle had been proud of until he passed away a few months ago leaving it in my possession. The word possession sticks in my mind. What possesses the house? It’s been so quiet that I begin to question whether the knocking had even happened. There’s no doubt I have been on edge ever since I walked through the door of this place. Maybe my imagination has been playing up? These thoughts were answered by a quiet giggling from behind the door. It started off soft at first, almost like a child’s laughter, but eventually ramped up in volume until it seemed like it shook the house itself. “Who’s there,” I screamed at the door. My voice sounds unhinged to my own ears and the thought I may be about to die brings a few tears to my eyes. The laughter stops. Everything is suddenly still. I cling to my book. At this point I know I haven’t imagined the going’s on outside the door but I feel like sitting here is safer. Anything is safer than opening that door and confronting what it on the other side. My thoughts drift back to something my Uncle had told me years ago about the house. The beauty of the exterior is juxtaposed with the ugliness of the interior. I thought he had been talking about some ugly wallpaper or stiff furniture. The banging begins again and the realization that I’m going to have to do something starts to settle in my stomach. I feel nauseated and hold my hands in my head. Why did I take this place? What did I have to prove to myself? Then I heard a word. One again, it was quiet at first but increased in volume as it went on. It was my name. Whatever was on the other side of this door was screaming my name. Tears streamed down my face and the hairs on my arms stood on end. I searched the room for a weapon and eventually settled on an old cane of my uncles. I hefted the weight in my hand. It’ll do. The sound of my name kept growing louder and seemed to even fill the inside of my head. It repeated over and over threatening to split my skull and burst out. I turned to the door and readies myself. “I’m right here,” I screamed as I raced to the door. With the cane in my hand, I flung open the door and stood ready to face my harasser. The hallway was empty. This was only the beginning.

Life slips out of mind Memories leave like old friends Missing their faces

What’s coming next You can’t go back to your home Must leave it behind

Nostalgia ebbs now Life seen through rosy glasses Was it ever real

Recollection fades Mistakes of the past return I have paid the price

The woods should be quiet tonight if not for the screams coming from my sister and I. We’re both running full speed ahead, passing thick evergreens and dodging fallen logs, as we continue deeper into the forest.

“Who was that,” my sister, Carol, pants. She reached into her pocket and pulls out a small device. Her inhaler. Sprinting through these woods right now must be hell on her lungs. She takes two puffs and begins to breathe easier.

“I have no idea,” I reply. We take a turn around a small group of bushes and continue down a hill.

The sound of rushing water floats into my ears and I realize the river must be nearby. If we could get to the other side of the river before he catches up then we may be able to escape. There’s a ranger’s station over there and hopefully we could get some help.

A noise startles me from behind and I turn to see the man rushing down the path behind us. The same man who had attacked us in our campsite just moments ago. I turn my eyes forward and try to run faster.

“He’s back there,” I say. “We need to find the river and get across the bridge.”

Carol nods and doesn’t look back. She’s terrified and so am I. We didn’t think we knew this man but there had been something so familiar about his terrible grin. It was inhuman, almost as if someone had photoshopped a picture of his face and pulled the smile in a distorted V shape. He still wore that smile when I spied him a moment ago.

I finally spot the river. It’s just up ahead and over a small hill. The sound of the mans footsteps behind us are getting louder, a terrifying pounding that threatens to drive me crazy, but we have hope now. We just have to find the bridge.

Unfortunately, we don’t see it as we near the river’s bank. It must be farther upstream. Or was it downstream?

“Do you remember where the bridge is,” Carol asks. The panic is evident in her voice. I have to make a quick decision.

“I think it’s downstream, come on.”

We take a right and follow the river downstream. The trees begin thickening up ahead but we think we see some rogue moonlight pouring through the branches. There’s a clearing.

We burst through the trees and immediately skid to a halt.

“No, no, no,” Carol whispers, collapsing to her knees.

It turns out we’re not at the bridge. We’re standing on the edge of a large cliff staring down as the river tumbles over the edge. We went the wrong way.

We hear the man spring out of the wood right behind us, brandishing a large machete and wearing his awful smile.

“Wrong turn,” he says.

I won’t let him get us, I think to myself. Anything’s better than giving him this satisfaction. I turn to the cliff and look down. It’s a long drop but they seem to make these kinds of jumps in the movies all the time. Plus, the alternative was getting hacked into bits by a machete.

I look at my sister and pull her to her feet. “Do you trust me,” I ask. She nods and I smile to her. It’s all bravado but it seems to make her feel better.

“Screw you,” I say to the man, eliciting a satisfying frown from him.

I grab my sister’s hand and pull her towards the cliff edge with me. She nods slowly in my direction. Then we jump.

The black hood is ripped off my head and I plunge back into the light. Blinking the darkness from my eyes, I take a look around the room. It’s ornately decorated, with long tapestries adorning the walls and chestnut colored furniture placed tastefully throughout. Typical bureaucrats office in this part of the world. I’m in exactly the right place. I adopt my most charming smile and turn my attention to the three men keeping me company. My kidnappers. Or escorts, depending on how you look at it. “So what seems to be the issue, boys,” I ask, keeping my voice casual. “It seems I’ve committed some sort of party foul.” The Neanderthal on my right answers with a quick punch against my chest. I cough and drop low. My eyes scan the room again. My target is somewhere in here. I just have to find it. Eventually my gaze settles on a specific tapestry. “We have some questions for you,” said the man in the middle. He’s tall, well-groomed and has a distinct air of authority to him. This guys in charge. Jacques de Lion. The mayor. I regain my composure and nod. “I’m happy to answer them but first I need to show you something.” Confused, the two henchmen look at the mayor. He waived them off. “And what is that?” I motion to my jacket with my chin. “I have papers sewed into my lapel. Your security would have missed them when they were patting me down. They’ll prove my identity. I was sent here by the King to help you.” The mayors eyebrow arches and he pauses. After an agonizing minute, he nods to his men and motions for them to check me. I suppress a grin. This is my opportunity. The man on my left bends down and starts searching my lapel. As soon as he’s eye level, I lash out and headbutt him sending him flying onto his back. The man to my right acts swiftly and kicks at me. However, I’m already falling forward from the headbutt and his kick swings high. I take advantage of him being off balance and strike his grounded leg with my own. He trips and falls backwards, his head striking the desk. I pop up and turn to the now frightened mayor. He tries to escape to the door but my hands wrap around his shoulders. I throw him to the ground and sit on top of him. “Now look here, old chap. I need the cypher to that safe you have hidden in here. You’ve got some information I need and I’m going to get it one way or another.” A smile slowly spreads across my face. “And I’d hate to have to get more violent than I already have.” The mayor breaks instantly and blurts out a series of runes. “Thanks.” I get up and kick him in the head, knocking him out cold. I make my way over to the most garish tapestry in the room and rip it off the wall to reveal the safe behind it. “Now let’s see how honest our good friend the mayor was.” I breathe in deeply and input the runes. A quiet click confirms he is. I smile again and rip open the safe door. The safe is filled with all kinds of treasures. Gold, jewels and coins stuffed each shelf. It was enough to make any person rich many times over. I, however, ignore all these. Riches are great but they’re not what I’m after. So I sift through the distractions until I find exactly what it is I’ve came for. It looks like a simple, glass orb. Sterling green and etched with seemingly random patterns, it’s fetching but somewhat ordinary at the same time. I take it out and smile once more. Finally, I found it. Without another second’s hesitation I smash it on the ground. All of a sudden, a swirl of green energy fills the small space. Winds rip through the office, sending furniture, documents and treasures flying. I stand defiant of it all and wait for the chaos to still. When it finally does, a woman is now standing at the center of the room. She blinks her eyes and smiles. “It’s good to see you again, Irwin,” she says. “It’s good to see you too, mother” I reply. She’s finally free.

It all began with a simple dinner snub. Don Pizzaro’s brother, Geno, was invited over for Sunday’s meal. The Don had expected his brother to show up. After all, it was the anniversary of their father’s death.

 The senior Don Pizzaro had made a lot of enemies. That much had been sure. It ultimately caused his downfall only a few years ago when he was gunned down in front of Geno at the supermarket. The men who did it were swiftly apprehended but Geno knew their escape was never the point. These men were meant to fall on the sword for whatever powerful enemy wanted his father dead. That kind of loyalty chilled him to the bone. It was also the reason he didn’t show up for dinner at his brothers place.

Ever since the day at the Supermarket, Geno had shied away from the family business. He wanted nothing to do with dealing with their operations, or keeping their people in line, and soon he distanced himself completely. He had seen the danger firsthand, watch it destroy his father and now wanted nothing to do what that life. Unfortunately, he never foresaw the resentment this would cause in his brother. 

 The new Don Pizzaro was an angry man. Angry he was forced into a life of crime that he never asked for either. Angry that, being the eldest, the business was his cross to bear once his father was violently ripped from him and he didn’t get to mourn properly like his brother. To shut down like his brother. To deny his responsibilities like his brother. 

This anger drove Don Pizzaro to become paranoid. His only flesh and blood had left him after their father died. Sure, he was older but what’s stopping Geno from making a play for his power? Was he playing dead fish just so he could stab him in the back? He had to be sure.

 Don Pizzaro decided to invite Geno over. He needed to see where his mind was. What was really going on behind the scenes of his sudden resignation? 

Geno accepted but never showed. That was all Don Pizzaro needed to confirm his suspicions. His brother had defected. He needed to be dealt with.

 The Don arranged an assassination attempt that was ultimately unsuccessful on Geno. In his emotional state, he was sloppy and left evidence for Geno to dig up. He had showed his cards too early.

 Geno knew he was dead unless he fought back against his brother. Through mutual contacts he could build a gang strong enough to oppose him. He had to in order to live.

 To his horror, Geno realized he had been forced back into a life he never wanted. And this time his enemy wasn’t an anonymous rival gang leader, it was his own brother. He mourned for his old life and steadied himself for the bloodshed to come.

 The Two Brothers War had begun.

“And that’s just how I feel,” John said, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding eye contact like it was the plague.

Sharon opened her mouth to say something but nothing came. Memories of the past ten years came rushing back in startling clarity. She could see them meeting at the bowling alley, going on their first date, buying a dog and getting married. 

It wasn’t all good though and the bad memories started hitting her like a freight train. Their fights could be nasty, him saying awful things and her trying to cut him to the core with personal attacks. They’d always made up after but in retrospect, she could see that those fights had gradually chipped away at their relationship. Like a great slab of marble, every fight has formed and shaped them into a statue of misery. 

She smiled a mirthless grin. “I guess I knew this was coming. I maybe didn’t want to but I think I knew.” 

 They paused there together for a long time. John still couldn’t make eye contact with her yet but he since moved on from rubbing his head to wringing his hands together. He was always a fidgety guy, never one to be able to sit still for long periods of time. The uncomfortableness of the situation surely wasn’t helping his restlessness. 

 She gently reached out and grabbed his hands, steadying them in her own. He finally looked up at her at this and she could see his eyes were misting. He was on the verge of tears...

 “It’s ok,” she said, forcing another broken smile. “We fought so hard for so long. Some things...”

Sharon paused here, not sure if she could finish her sentence. She knew saying it out loud was the rubicon but she also knew she had to cross it. To move forward. 

“...aren’t able to be fixed.”

 John nodded at this, the sudden weight of their conversation finally landing on him. A sudden urge to hug her came over him and he acquiesced to it. 

 They sat their for a long time. It wasn’t happy but they cherished those last few moments. The last time they would truly think of themselves as husband and wife before the next stage came. 

 Eventually, they broke apart and John stood up. He slowly put his house key down on the table and locked eyes with Sharon one more time. 

 She saw him open his mouth to say one more thing but then quickly close it and turn away. He walked out they door. She didn’t know it but this was the last time she’d see John alive. And that fact would haunt her for the rest of her life.