Prologue
Gilbert Grotto swept a hand across his brow and shook the soaked sleeve off to the side. Walking with hurried steps and nervous sidelong glances, he made his way through Knockturn alley. "This was stupid," he thought as his steps turned quicker, the sounds of shoes slapping the rocky, uneven pavement echoing through the seemingly empty corridors. This couldn't be right. He can't be alone. Gripping his wand tight he skid around the last corner to his goal.
He nearly jumped when a woman pointed at him and fell into gales of unsettled cackles. Coarse hairs on her chin quivered with her laughter. She had fingers like sausages with blood red polish dripping off the ends. A stench filled Gilbert's nose and reminded him of his great Aunt Mildred's 'perfume'. Retching at the memory he surged to the opposite side of the alley nearly running into a sign that announced, 'The Baleful Banshee'. 50 more yards.
"You're gonna die! You're gonna die!" Echoed the squeals of delight as Gilbert broke into a sprint at the sight of the night sky just beyond.
Why oh why did he think this was a good idea? It saves him what, 10 minutes of his time to cut through this way. He might make it in time to see his wife for a few more minutes but at what cost? 20 feet left…
Gilbert froze mid stride, lungs searing and heart pounding. Hot air raised the hairs on the back of his neck as Gilbert slowly turned, wand in hand, until he was face to face with the empty alley. Relief coarsed through him and he let out a breath of air he hadn't noticed he was holding. It also escaped his attention that the night sky had turned black and the alley's end was no longer visible. Turning back, he only had a moment to take in a sudden breath before the shadow overtook him.
The old woman on the corner watched with sickening glee etched on her face as shrieks continued long into the night.