Status Updates From Miss Knight and the Night i...

I remained silent and resisted the urge to remind the man we hadn’t captured the ringleader. The Obayifo had also escaped, thanks to the inspector’s need to rescue a damsel who wasn’t in any distress. I was certain the vampire sorcerer was floating his way back to his master.

I remained silent and resisted the urge to remind the man we hadn’t captured the ringleader. The Obayifo had also escaped, thanks to the inspector’s need to rescue a damsel who wasn’t in any distress.

A hunched form crawled through the window, leaped off the windowsill and landed soundlessly by the foot of my bed. I waited for it to straighten up. It remained slouched over, the knuckles of its long, hairy arms touching the floor. Before I could decide how to react to the humanoid invading my privacy, light glowed around the closed bedroom door. Perhaps Mrs. Pritchard had heard our uninvited visitor.

I spared a glance at our two prisoners. The assistant’s shirt sleeve had been torn in the scuffle, revealing a stick-like tattoo coloring his upper arm. I was about to lean over for a proper look when I was distracted by my companion. “Well, Miss Bee,” Inspector Jones said in his clipped accent. His thin mustache emphasized the tightness of his lips. “I believe you owe me an explanation.”

It was an understandable and unfortunate assumption that most people fell victim to upon seeing my walking stick. I was neither elderly nor infirm. The walking stick was a very useful tool, made of oxide green metal. One most certainly didn’t want a close encounter with either end, nor with the various tools cleverly disguised within it.

One doesn’t require much supernatural experience to appreciate why it’s best not to anger a giant Praying Mantis. Even when duty requires it, care should be taken so as not to lose one’s head in the process. What use is a headless body to anyone?