Audiobook:

https://youtu.be/o93UY-wo7MQ

With his firm grip around the nape of my neck, he guided me down the cobblestoned street. The dead autumn leaves crunched as I stepped upon them, and I shivered as the cool air nipped at my flesh. Peter released his grip, and I felt slightly better, but I still focused on everything I could. The sounds of chatter and music, the sensation of walking through autumn's cool embrace, and the aroma of fresh popcorn.

Had I visited this place any other time than now, for any other reason than this, I would have walked with a skip in my step and held a hotdog or bag of popcorn in my hand. But no, as I walk deeper into this valley, guided by Peter, I avoid eye contact with everyone who looks at me.

Some frown, while others raise their brows and lips in disgust—no matter, I followed Peter as he led me to the foot of a vast platform. At its center stood Persius, and before him was a podium, and from what I could tell, he was delivering a speech.

He said, "it has been a treat serving you all for so long, but here we have your new Mayor. He is a simple man who desires more than simple things! He is a man who has overseen Acadia National Park for decades. He loves Dreadhollow so much that he sacrificed his own son to become Mayor! Let us give a round of applause for Miles Monroe!"

Peter whispered, "play along, for the sake of your son, play along."

Persius extended his hand. Black and frost-bitten fingers groped through the air, inviting me to join him on the stage. I took a step back and glanced at the crowd. Their eyes, all of them were gray. They stood still, idle, waiting for me to join Persius on the stage.

As I stood, Persius stepped close and flashed his crooked yellow teeth with a smile. They reminded me of old wooden blocks, splintered and split.

Persius whispered, "if you ever want to see Maya again, you will join me up here," he took a deep breath and hissed as he whispered, "get up here now..."

His words cut through my conviction, fear, and wonder. My knees shook as I wobbled forward and stood before the crowd. There were lights strung above, and their shine was blinding. I covered my eyes before turning toward Persius.

He looked at the crowd and smirked as he said, "ah, there he is now. Won't you say a few words and elaborate as to why you would like to be mayor."

I looked at the small buildings, the vast rolling hills sprinkled with homes, the people, everything.

I said, "you took my son. Where is he?"

Persius chuckled, "let us not be coy! You're acting as though you don't know who we are, but you do know. You know us all very well, why else would these people judge," Persius extended his hand, gesturing at the townsfolk watching them.

I scanned the people. Their faces, though each one was different, shared the same expression. Their brows were curved in anger, cheeks sloped down in disgust, lips pressed hard into a fine line. For reasons unknown, they detested me.

One woman stepped forward and pointed her finger at me and screeched, "you! You! Release my daughter from her prison at once!"

A low murmur washed over the crowd as they spoke among themselves. Whispers, carried by the wind, contained no more than accusations, no less than insults.

Liar, thief, deceiver, they called me. Persius stepped between the crowd and I, hushing them with the wave of his arms. He spoke in a soothing, yet sharp tone.

Persius said, "the new Mayor has forgotten that it was he who bartered your children for his freedom! He has forgotten," Persius turned around, his stare cold and unforgiving, "but we have," he hissed, "—not."

He drew his index finger close to the end of my nose. The smell, the foul odor of decay pervaded my senses.

Persius whispered, "you know that we cannot lie, lest our nails become black, and rot spread across our bodies!" He turned around and flung his arms into the air.

He shouted, "Mr. Monroe, what is it you love most about your son? His smile? The glow in his eyes when he sees you after long day's work or his illegitimate brother from another woman! Perhaps its sudden business trips, or something else?"

I turned around, in search of an escape. Perhaps I can flee the way I came, but no. As I craned my head around, Peter stood at the other end of the platform, behind a gate. His face was sunken in anger.

Persius continued, his voice dripping with contempt, "you use our children as brushes to paint upon this beautiful tapestry!" He turned around and gestured at the town, the rolling hills, the beautiful open sky.

He continued, "marvel before its splendor, admire its beauty, and steel your hearts because it is a lie! In your possession are the souls of our children, when you become Mayor, they will be set free. You stand before us, not as a wounded father in search of his lost child, but as a con man who takes us for fools, don't you?"

Persius drew a deep breath and shouted, "you are the soul harvester of Dreadhollow, you have placed us in the prison, you have lied to us, stolen our children, and feast upon our souls! You have deceived me into becoming Mayor, and now, I return to you what is rightfully yours!"

I trembled before the crowd as they erupted into laughter. I took note of what Persius said. They decay a little when they lie.

I know that I am innocent, I know that I am being accused of crimes which I did not commit. I pointed at the crowd as I shouted, "you accuse me of falsehoods, label me a liar, thief, and a deceiver, you allege infidelity against my wife and accuse me of abduction." The crowd, unified in their anger and disgust, raised their chins in disapproval.

They did not listen.

They do not care.

I continued, "I have not abducted your children," I noticed a sliver of black decay birth into existence at the center of a fingernail.

I pressed on and shouted louder, "I did not commit adultery," the blackness spread, "I did not steal your souls," at this point, my fingernail had become black, and now, it began to spread into my flesh.

I screamed, "I am not a soul harvester!" With this, the scent of my decay consumed my senses. The world spun, and suddenly, I toppled over.

Persius said, "see, not even the cursed one is free from his own magic. Look upon him! We can not lie, lest we decay into dust. Gaze upon his fingers, see that they have withered and rotted!"