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Light fog had settled over the city, creating halos around the gaslight lamps lining the cobblestone streets of London as Edward Norrington walked his usual route. Despite the fog, the air was crisp and cold but clean and free of the usual smells of the city because of the wind that had prevailed during the day. It was late October and, clearly, it would be snowing soon.

A night watchman at St. Katherine’s Dockyard, Norrington had been walking this part of the gates for the past 15 years. As he did every night, he slowly came down the rough stairs that connected the gate with the other side of the building. The stocky man looked over the city as he descended, noticing the lights being dimmed by the mist and losing themselves in the darkness of the night. His breath came in short bursts as he labored down the stairs. His arthritic knees always gave him trouble with the onset of the colder season. He directed his eyes towards the Thames and the looming dark shape tied up along the pier, lightly swaying in the water. He shivered for a moment, unaware of a strange mist appearing in a doorway behind his back. It might have been just a swirl of fog condensing in the air, except for its odd green tint.

Barely visible in the lazy fog, Norrington thought the river looked surprisingly dull, with only occasional speckles of light reflecting on the water. He ran his eyes over the outline of the dark ship, and as so many times before, he wondered what it would be like to set sail and see the world. He had never left England; barely ever set foot outside of London, in fact. The thought of visiting foreign countries unsettled his senses as much as it fascinated him.

The mist in the doorway had begun to grow, while the old man was looking over the yard. The cloud grew and, for a moment, it seemed as if a pair of piercing, green eyes had appeared out of the undulating mist, but they were gone in a flash. Unaware of the strange presence at his back, Norrington rubbed his hands together for warmth and pulled his earlobes, deep in thought.



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Demon's Night
by Guido Henkel