Wicht von Astert

[Unseelie]

The siren calls began in early 814 AS. Everyone left had lost someone..and they'd see them. Live, whole, hale, beckoning from the edge of the settlement. From beyond the fence. Worse than husbands, wives, lovers...the very worst, were the children. Children, crying just out of sight, crying out for their siblings, their parents...children outside the fence, trying to get in...eventually, someone left a gate open, or turned down the electric charge, and no one stopped them. No one saw it, or no one cared. A family got back together, had a wonderful dinner. Children stayed up all night, chatting with a specter, entranced.

Above, thirteen men died, their heads pulled right around. The next day, the town was stuck. Trawlers had been driven into each of the four staircases, and industrial sealant sprayed into whatever spaces were open. Lines were cut, and the town died, cut off from everything. When the winter storms died down, a party was sent from Lichte, to discover what had happened to the struggling settlement. It seemed like the population had gone berzerk, sealing themselves below and attacking one another with mining tools, cutting saws, torches...The town had torn itself to shreds, and cannibalized its own corpse. And there were...figures...wandering around, just out of sight in the mists.

Men disappeared.