Grace Moreton

Hunted

“At night everything is a threat; every shadow or flicker is something predatory just beyond our line of sight when nothing is there Kyle, it’s just brought on by drink and the time of year I expect, it will pass I promise you,” The priest tried to soothe his frantic parishioner once more, ‘Kyle has had a hard life’ he told himself. Repeatedly. Unconvincingly. Kyle paced and ranted back and forth across the hard-stone floor, looking more and more feral as time passed. The priest rang 999 to get him forcibly removed. He was refusing to leave. The chapel was getting colder as the long January night drew in when all the noise from behind the huge oak doors to the catacombs stopped. After what felt like an age the strangled murmur came, “Protect me and I will leave.”