"About 190 years ago, the humans of Dark Creek finally succeeded in driving out the immortal beings that had terrorized their town for so long.
Dark Creek had been a battleground, plagued by relentless attacks from supernatural creatures. They lurked in the shadows and lurched at night.
Witches cast dark spells, vampires preyed on the living, and demons stalked the innocent, leaving death and destruction in the atmosphere. The town was a slaughterhouse, with humans being brutally murdered in their homes, on the streets, and in the surrounding woods. The people of Dark Creek lived in constant fear, never knowing when the next attack would come. But they refused to give up, and after years of struggle, they managed to send the immortal beings packing, reclaiming their town and their lives.
However, they still remained troubled. They had creases upon their faces. Their breakfast were gloomy, their dinners were of mournful atmosphere. They has sleepless night and they treaded lightly through the lonely alleyways.
Several evenings back, the Hall of Duty had proclaimed a curfew as early as the sun just descending into the surface of the earth. They were grumbles. People complained to the committee members of the Hall of Duty but when they had discovered the headless bodies of a family of three, they had immediately had no choice than to adhere to this curfew no matter how strict it appeared.
The Old Valley Street had a family of two in which consists of just a little curious girl and her widower father. Her name was Aina. You see, Aina worked as a governess down the street. On that fateful night, she was demanded by her father to return before the sun goes down but her curiosity got the better of her to have a peek of this devil people talked about. So, she lurked around the corners and stepped out when it became dark.
Her father searched for her all night. Asked to return to his abode by the Hall of Duty committees after they promised to find Aina, her father returned home only to be greeted by the headless body of Aina, his dear daughter, by his door step. Till today, no one could find her head."
"Ho-how do you think this devil kills them?"
"Nobody knows. All we hear are speculations. Although, there was once a rumor circulating that the devil plunges his teeth into his victims' necks and bite off until their head falls off but I doubt that."
"Why?"
"Because, their headless body doesn't appear as if their heads were ruthless cut off. It appears as though the devil had cut it carefully. Like with a knife or a more sharper object."
"Seamstress, ha-ha-have you seen a body before?"
"Yes, I have, Grace."
"Who?"
"My brother. I found him on my bed."
"Giselle!" Barked a voice from the entrance. Giselle spun around quickly to find a scowling Kate. "Haven't I warned you to stop telling the child scary stories?"
Giselle pouted. "But, she like it."
"No, she does not!" Kate snapped, stepping further into the shop. Her hand closed around Grace's small one almost too violently. "She will have nightmares!"
"But Kate, I like—"
"Shut up, Grace! Haven't I warned you not to be seen with her again? I told you she is not whom she appears to be. She fantasizes about wanting to meet the devil she speaks of. That is why she is always so excited when she tells his story."
She crouched lower to meet Grace's small height and spun Grace around to face Giselle's beaming smile. "Look at that grin. She's got that monster in her mind. The girl's a witch, through and through." As they watched, Giselle hummed along to a jaunty tune, her scissors closing around a crimson fabric for a precise, measured cut.
"But, I thought the devil killed her brother." Grace whispered as Giselle went on with her work like she wasn't being gossiped about few metres away.
"That's why I said she is a witch." Kate spat maliciously. "Any woman that wants the rod of a monster in her is a witch."
Creases framed Grace's petite forehead. "What is a "rod""?
"Penis,"
"What?"
"She wants to fuck the monster. She is a whore."
Before Grace could retort with another curious question, the bell of the entrance chimed and a figure graced their presence.
Kate and Giselle quickly moved to stand side by side, their heads bowed as the figure sauntered in.
As usual, the air thickened with tobacco and some new gin sold at the bar just few blocks away from the shop.
Morcant's eyes were red and his lips were darkened by the consistent consumption of alcohol and tobacco. He flipped off his coat and tossed it to Kate who was quick to catch it. Then, he stalked closer to Giselle, his gaze predatory as he sized her up and down.
He suddenly reached out for her lips, caressing it gently.
Giselle's breath caught, sweat forming at the nape of her neck. Beside her, Kate watched them with great disdain.
"You little whore, haven't I told you to stop wearing this silly gloss?" He bit out, aggressively wiping his thumb at it. Then, slowly, he brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on the gloss stain. "You always look like you want my wood to be buried down your throat. I'm letting you off this time. Next time, I won't."
Slowly, he stepped away, the scent of tobacco mixed with sweat finally seizing from her inhales.
He swept past Kate not sparing her a look despite her flashing her makeup-caked face at him and dashed into his office.
Few beats later, he bellowed, "Kate! Step in!"
With all enthusiasm in the world, Kate swayed, stopping at the entrance of his office to adjust her dress so that her cleavage were exposed perfectly. Then, with a simple knock, she stepped in, flashing that flirty grin.
Immediately she was in and the door shut behind her, Grace who had been perched to a corner all along turned to face Giselle, "What does a wood means?"
Giselle wiped off the smug her boss had left at the side of her lips with the violent wipe. "It means a cane, dear."
"Then, why does he want it buried down your throat?"
She paused. "Uhm… It's a type of punishment, honey."
Kate screams of pleasure suddenly pierced the air.
"Fuck me, master! Yes!"
Giselle rolled her eyes and pressed her palm to either side of Grace's ear, preventing her from taking in the unpleasant sound.
"Is he burying his wood down her throat, too?"
"Yes, honey. He is punishing her." Giselle holds out a hand, "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home."
"Ugh… yes, I'm your whore, master! Fuck me harder!"
"Isn't he so hard on her?" Grace asked, her eyes narrowed with genuine worry.
"Don't worry. She would be fine. Come on, mama is waiting."
"Can you stop calling 'Giselle' while you fuck me, master?!" Was the last thing heard before Giselle and Grace both stepped out into the afternoon breeze.