The people once knew it by many titles. They saw it when the malformed crawled out of their mother’s wombs. When the ravens flew into the windows. When the cows could not produce milk and when the diseases spread. Its face had always been there. During the pestilence of the Black Plague, and its presence felt in the beds of the sweating sickness. Among the frightened royalty of the species, it appeared in their bed covers as they gasped their final moments covered in pustules and sores.”

“Last night I saw upon the stair, A little man who wasn’t there, He wasn’t there again today Oh, how I wish he’d go away…”

“It was odd, how everyone spoke of it, as though it were one single event. The time when the county had turned upside down and all rules of logic were discarded out of the windows of reason. It had all began when Tony Anderson was taken to the hospital for drunkenly shooting up his house. That one single night, seemed to unleash something rather otherworldly on the community. It was then that the autumn harvests began to mysteriously die and wither. It was then that hushed rumors began about deformed cattle, milk curdled and sour eggs were yielded from the chickens. When people began speaking of shadows lurking in their hallways, and voices outside of their windows at night.”