This is a very short story (less than 900 words), but it has been lovingly crafted.Fans of "The Lottery" and "The Lady or the Tiger" might enjoy this work.This is the story of the night watchman of the Tangi Bridge.Comprehensive lesson plans are also available.A longer short story, "The Executioner", is scheduled for May 2013.Thanks for reading!'Greywolf', volume eleven in the Stanton Chronicles series of novels.The Millennium war games amid 'Circles of Fear', the government and media covered up the fact blues guitar player Jason Brinkly fought the battle of Armageddon, but with the hand of whom on his shoulder? Governments and commercial entities withdraw to their own circles driven by fear as the awesome weapon ADAM resurfaces in the hands of Greywolf, but had it ever slept. They regrouped ready to strike, they waited a long time for the ageing vigilante to wane, they would soon beg for his return. The stock market crashed, as the rich ran for cover they left the poor to put the bill, the rich for no other reasons than wealth rather than purpose, were hunted down. Greywolf unlike Stanton was not confined by matters of state, but by matters of servitude. He lived by the gun, the gun of his father; he served the righteous, in the name of his mother. Greywolf began to stalk the corridors of power. Educated by the sword of the cross, armed with the power of technology, authoritative information far beyond the gun, loyal to none but servant to all, even Stanton struggled to understand his creation. His mother 'Bella Elizabeth', a ruthless assassin was horrified. Grey by the wisdom of his father's hair, wolf by the virtue of his mother, 'Greywolf' became the law.

"No one believed him that the monsters were real..."This short horror story is based on a nightmare I had some time back.This short horror story is based on a nightmare I had some time back. A young boy encounters a beautiful witch who promises to take away his fears...Excerpt:No one believed him that the monsters were real. His uncle grew frustrated and impatient with the nighttime fears the boy should long have outgrown. His aunt was more sympathetic and well-intentioned, but she dismissed them as being merely nightmares. Only he knew that, at night, the truths always revealed themselves.After the lights went out and all was dark, the silence of his room was broken by quiet scratching and moans. He covered his ears against the screeches, but they grew louder and louder until they filled the air, and he could feel them even in his lungs. Then, when a scream threatened to burst forth from his throat, and he could bear it no longer, there was silence. Not one sound. It was the same disquieting nothingness as in a forest filled with animals that sensed a new predator. The monsters were still, but he knew they were there.He uncapped his ears and glanced at his little sister, asleep in the bed next to his. Quiet and undisturbed, she’d slept through it all. He envied her peaceful slumber; she always looked like an angel.Then, there was another noise. Whispers. “She’s coming,” they said. “She’s coming. She’s coming.”