The Town Elders
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Sebastian Skinner turned first; the screams approached from the
floor above.
Brother Marcus had lost his mind. He ran through the great hall of
the inn screaming of ghosts, the windows, the wind and other such madness.
“The crows! The crows!” he cried. “The crows know all…”
Brother Marcus ran from the inn.
Skinner turned to Reverend Harding.
“One of yours?” asked Skinner.
“A man of no great importance,” responded Harding. “I’m surprised
he survived the monastery.”
“Does that make him worth investigating?”
“Unfortunately, it seems too late for that.”
“He’s not wrong though. A shame his simple mind could not handle such
truth.”
“If only he knew the rest. He might have died on the spot.”
“Enough talk gentlemen,” commanded Lord Hanbrook. “We have more
important matters to attend to.”
The men rose from their chairs.
“I suppose we should retrieve our things from the room.”
The men went to the room Brother Marcus had come from. The owner
of the inn was already there.
“He was screaming like a mad m. I wanted to make sure he hadn’t
disturbed you gentlemen.”
“Thank you kindly,” responded Skinner. “But that man was no threat
to us.”
“Good to hear. Will you be needing anything else tonight?”
“We are done here and you’ve been most generous. We won’t soon
forget.”
The innkeeper nodded and went on his way.
“That man has further use?” asked Hanbrook.
“That man has eyes and ears in every room here. And he’s very good
at keeping secrets.”
The men entered the darkness of the room. Inside, figures formed
in the shadows. They cast themselves as soldiers of a long-ago militia.
Skinner’s face grew dark.
“They grow hungry and will need to eat soon.”
“Then why wait?” asked Harding. His face growing dark and twisted
as well. “The time has come to take our men to town.”
Outside, dark things were on the march. The town elders led their
army of the damned. The crows took flight and followed, as the darkness spread across
the land.
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