The Haunted Traveler Vol. 2 Issue 1

36
Silent Night
Searska Greyraven
Such a pale, pale night! Deathly still, one would say. And I do
say, if it got much colder, death itself might die. The moon, fat and round
graced the gleaming metal buildings with its galvanic grin. I walked the
city streets, the skyscrapers rising above me like an urban version of
Grimm’s fabled forest. I strolled down the sidewalk, as comfortable in
my modern wood as a wolf among the trees. I am no werewolf, of course.
Such things are entirely imaginary. Ah, I wish it were otherwise! Alas, it
is not. No matter. Among the sheepish civilians of this city, I may as well
be my canine cousin. As long as the snow is steady and the winter long, I
can stay here for months, unseen and unnoticed.
I passed a news stand, hands buried deep in the pockets of my
brown duster. My eyes flicked to the evening edition on the rack. The
main article boldly proclaimed, “Full Moon Killer Strikes Again!” Photos
of a woman, dark of hair and fair of skin graced the front page. Her name
was Deb, an accountant. She drove a blue Subaru Legacy, loved the band
Coldplay, and took her coffee with two creams and three sugars. She also
had this adorable red jacket, filled to blotation with down feathers. She
wore it the night she vanished under the light of the laughing full moon.
I caressed the image, black ink coating my fingertips, and sighed fondly.
Such beautiful music, we two had made…It was a pity, a true pity. The
nights had been ever so quiet since…