======But For Good======

“You dun’t go walkin’ the streets of Y’ic alone at night. That’s what they say. There’s somethin’ out there. Somethin’ that ain’t human. They call it //the Shadow//. They say it stalks the darkened streets, ‘idin’ in the clefts an’ ‘ollows. They say it snatches you up when you ain’t lookin’, takin’ you gods know where. Man, woman, child… they never find the bodies.”

“Mate, you are so full of shit. They aren’t findin’ no children ‘cause they aren’t bein’ taken. It’s the criminals it’s goin’ after. It’s some sort of vigilante type shit. Anyone who gets too big for their boots is gettin’ cut down to size. Yeah, you’re shittin’ yourself now after tonight’s haul, aren’t ya? And it isn’t called the Shadow. It goes by //the Faceless//. ‘Cause that’s what it does to its victims. Cuts off their faces like some sort of trophy. Sick little shit, isn’t it?”

“I fought they called it //the Faceless// cos it ain’t got a face?”

“Nah, it’s because it’s got so many faces.” 

“On what world does ‘at make it faceless?”

“I don’t know, it’s just what I heard.”

“All of yous, shuttit. None of yous know a thing about what you’re saying,” the group of brigands all turn to watch their leader, his face flickering demonically in the fire’s light. Despite the success of the evening, his eyes are hollow, his features severe. “Whatever it is goes by many names, but the one that’s most apt is //the Shifter//. That’s what it is. A shapeshifter. It walks right up to its prey disguised as their friend, smiles and all, then stabs them in the back when they go for a hug. Then it strolls out with their face, waving away their bodyguards, and walks right on out of the crime scene.” Despite the grizzly scenes being described, the gang cannot help but lean in closer, enamoured with deathly fascination by every word. “As for its prey, it’s erratic, but not in a chaotic way. There’s a rhyme to it. The city ever gets too content, a politician goes missing. A crook ever gets too violent, and they end up face down in the Revir. Controlled chaos. The sort that keeps the world entertaining. That keeps the people in it relevant enough to not be taken by Tammat, some even say. That don’t come from a beast. It’s something smart. Something directed.” The leader fixes every person in the circle with a deadly stare. “And it could be any one of yous.” 

There is dead silence amidst the bandit camp. 

Then, one of the thugs cracks a smile. “Are you sayin’, it could be you, guv?” The circle explodes into laughter, the firelit tension dissolving through the night air. 

“Or, or maybe,” guffaws another, “it’s actually Joe!” 

More uproarious laughter. More hands finding bottles of beer again, celebrations resuming. 

“Or!” announces the captain to the ever-diminishing crowd still around the campfire. “It could even be… Kate!” 

‘Kate’ smiles, her pitch-black irises wide in innocence. “Don’t be silly, guvnor,” she says, fingering the concealed knife under her cloak. “Little old me? Now, shall I put another log on the fire? I do so like it when it’s toasty.”