On one particularly cool night, in a particular seaside town, a boy named Coal found himself awake at a particularly odd hour of the night. The trees whistled a tune that sent a shiver down the boy's spine, his eyes having yet to adjust to the dark of his room.

Shhiirrrrrk!

Shirk shirk!

A grating metal sound called to the trees, joining in on the song which caused a strong urge in the boy to cower under his covers. Coal was not a coward, however, for his father was a very wise man who had tought him very wise things.

"There is nothing to fear of the unknown things in the dark, as once you know them they hold no power over you." His father had said, after a particulary discomforting nightmare.

So, being the brave boy he was, Coal got out of bed and crept toward the window of his room.

Skraaat! Skrit!

The metal sound filled the night again, and bumps grew on Coal's skin, his hands growing clammy. He looked through the night in search of the origin of the sound.

He found it. A figure sat crouched next to a mount of dirt over a hole in the ground at the edge of Picket Forest. The figure wore a thick black cloak so dark, it could have only been made of the night itself. To take credit away from Coal a bit, he couldn't see much. It was what he could see that informed his impression of the figure.

The moon shone bright this night. Bright enough that the trees behind the figure, and the ground around it, were all very visable. In the middle of the moon's fountain of light, the figure ate all of what touched it and left none for Coal to see.

Just as Coal set himself to walking outside and confronting the figure-- he was brave not smart--it stood holding something it retreaved from the ground. The figure ripped something from the item in it's hands, shoved whatever it now held into it's mouth, then fled after dropping the item from the ground back into it's place. Coal, ever the brave boy, collected himself a candle and walked outside to investigate. The dew covered grass made no sound as Coal walked to the hole on the edge of the forest.

The hole was the grave for Coal's old dog. Coal knew this as the light of the candle showed him so. The sight of his dog disturbed him, though not because he was dead. It was because the dog cast no shadow.

The next morning, Coal tried to tell his mother about what he saw. He made a point of not telling her that he had gone out at night. He knew as well as any that folk go missing at night.

"Don't go telling kiddie stories, Coal, you're too old for them." his mother said. It only made sense to Coal that she didn't belive him. Coal barely believed it himself. It didn't help that whatever had taken the dog's shadow filled the grave up. Later that day, as Coal was helping his mother at the market, he overheard an emphatic discussion the old lighthouse keeper was having with the Harvester family's eldest.

"I'm telling you, Justin! One of the birds was missing a shadow! Something stole it!" The Lighthouse keeper said.

"Ah sure Link. Let me guess, the theif wore a cloak made of darkness." Justin said, his face the picture of scarcasm.

"I'm telling you, make sure you have light out at night. Folk go missing at night.

Please forgive Coal, for as most boys are he is a little thick of head. Thoughts of figures and shadowless dogs fled his mind, and he found himself thinking instead of a bird without a shadow. His thoughts led him to the path to the lighthouse on the hill. He was talking to the air, playing games all boys play. Thinking large thoughts of small things. The largest of these kept his mind away from the world for too long, and he found himself out after dark. Finding his wits, he tried to make the long walk home a short run. Despite the late hour, the moon tonight was bright enough to see by.

Perhaps it was fate that sent him in circles, for even though the moon lit his way he found himself closer to the graveyard than home. It was there he heard that same haunting sound for the second time.

Shhiirrrrrk!

The metal song filled the night, though this time no trees whistled accompaniment. Coal's head moved of it's own accord, facing the familiar sound. His feet went next, and Coal found himself walking toward the Graveyard. Peeking through the wide gap in the fence of the yard, there he saw the figure for the second time as well as two shapes Coal could scarcely make out. In effort to get a better look, Coal slid himself through the fence and hid behind a shack in the yard. There, he heard a voice.

"The lad is not using it anymore..." A dry tenner said, a deadman's voice. "Poor manners to let one rot." the man waved a hand toward the two shapes next to him. A pair of night black shears in his hand. The shapes knodded, the closer vantage letting Coal see they looked like shadows on a wall, the light of the moon not touching them.

Shirk shirk!

With a flurish, the man cloaked with shadow made a pair of final cuts then his shears vanished into his cloak. He grasped down into the grave and pulled a sheet of black from the hole. He tore a piece of the dark from the sheet, and placed it onto a rip in his cloak. The rest he brought to the hood of his cloak.

CRACK

Without relizing it, Coal had began to take anotherstep forward, and his luck had run dry, for underfoot a twig had been waiting to be broken. The shadow man looked up, Coal knew this without being able to see his face, for under the hood and shadow two pinpricks of light bore into Coal. The shadow man stood, then took a step toward Coal. Then another. Coal couldn't move, his feet seeming to be stuck in place. Another step from the shadow man seemed to inspire enough fear in Coal to get him moving, and move he did. He took two steps back for every step forward the shadow man took.

A rustling in the bushes behind Coal stole his attention for a moment, and he turned to see the blur of an animal run into the brush. Whipping his head back to the shadow man, he was met with the two pinpricks of white in the massive shade the shack provided. Coal blinked, and the pinpricks vanished. Coal was alone. He made no futher delay in going home. Sneeking into his room through his window, Coal lie in bed for hours before sleep took him.

To be contiunued...