21:00, Port Ashthrone

"Good evening, Port Ashthrone, and thank you for tuning in! It truly has been a wonderful week, hasn't it? We've got a downright chilly forecast in the wings. We're expecting rain all throughout the week, so have your umbrellas ready — and be careful in the river rapids if you're the type to go kayaking. We already have a bit of a reputation, folks! As I like to say, 'tell the ghost stories, don't become one.' I'm also delighted to announce the grand reopening of Ashthrone's brightest and biggest landmark, the 'throne' of our otherwise small town itself, the Ashthrone Casino and Hotel! I know many of you have been waiting for it since the previous destruction caused by the sudden storm twenty some years ago, but worry not, it has been rebuilt, greater than ever before! The tram routes are open to take you across the bridge to the famous island! That's all I have now for you folks!"

The radio sat on the corner of the bar, abandoned by the nearby patrons who drowned themselves in their drinks. Music started humming out of the speakers while the T.V hanging from the corner of the bar showed a baseball game. People sat at the couches, jeering or cheering for their chosen teams. Glasses clinked whenever a score rang out. Barstools squeaked when those not interested in the sport went to leave before the night got older.

The rain started and no umbrellas were ready.

People threw hoods or coats over their own heads or their friends and scurried with their shoes slapping the growing puddles when the rain intensified with a distant clap of thunder. Somewhere in a parking lot, a car siren went off. Lamps from the main street glimmered past the curtains of water while the pub turned off its lights and the last patron found themselves darkening the steps. Their final bottle in hand, they scowled and shifted their attention when a couple of shadows milled about the shop across the street. A couple of hooligans, loitering around with their shifty expressions, the ringleader a young, black-haired man who laughed and nodded at something their partner in crime said.

"Come on, Ray!" a young woman said with a wave of her hand. "We can't miss the dance tonight!"

In an instant, the group of miscreants disappeared through the rain, and the lone patron left the steps of his favourite bar to wander further down the alley, away from their voices, never up to any good. Several break-ins, and the lone patron banked all the money he had of who the culprits were. Out of the alley, he wandered down the length of the quiet harbour, where across the lake, an island sat, rising the limelight of the Ashthrone casino, scattering colours across the dark clouds. Water lapped at the piers, and the droplets sank down the low-hanging lamps while personal boats swayed along, anchored tightly. His gaze trailed off the boats and to the foundry which cut off the rest of the harbour, and the chain-link fence, where the Ashthrone Police Bureau sat on the corner of the town square, right beside the high tower of city hall. He snorted at the sight. As if they did anything useful to prevent the petty crimes the young ones found themselves in.

One of the boats closest to him gave a sharp sway, and he froze, clutching the neck of his bottle. A rogue wave. He scoffed and went to take his usual shortcut back home. Work waited for him, but he drank once more from the bottle and hung onto the bitter taste slipping down his throat. As he walked, the blankets of rain slowed.

And stopped.

The water stopped lapping against the piers.

He twisted around to check over his shoulder, but no one revealed themselves in the growing shadows. The lone patron took one last swig and listened to the screaming silence. As he took a step forward, the shadows followed.

A cautious creep in his peripheral, a visage through the windows of the decrepit shops. A shape molded over his own, and he came closer to investigate, wiping at his eyes and cursing his buzz when it disappeared. He didn't have time to entertain his mind though, so he turned around.

Silence let out a single gasp of terror and pain, and crimson seeped into the harbor stones.

The rain continued.