It had come into being moments before, floated over fences along hedges, down streets and parkways; until here it lays dormant, as leaves whither and crumble around it. It swoops from the alley; a response to a call, darting from garbage can to garbage can. It begins shaping from the shadowy limbs, almost a footprint of the bum before. It slides along the petunias that climb the walls of the structure; a pungency pitched venomously from its breast. All of its malevolent will seeks the source of the potency that will give it life. The vessel of the Drachr, a vessel of great power, It senses the singe of evocation, searching wildly for the power that will instigate a new possession.

Roger walked quickly, yes it’s all clear unaware of the specter lurking in the shadows. Still wrapped in his own perplexions, he absentmindedly walked towards the door of his apartment building. A gaunt, undulating limb materializes from the ephemeral form of a jacket sleeve; missing Roger by inches, as Roger reached the door, hurried in, and then slammed the door to the entrance. A muffled wail escapes the charred craw, as the shadow collapses in a heap on the sidewalk and dissolves like that witch in the Wizard of Oz; after the bucket. Quietly it began to drizzle, you were meant to be here washing the shadow of the remains down the concrete to the asphalt, forming a puddle in the gutter; from the beginning a puddle that oozes yet breathes occasionally.

Section 11