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Greg flushed the toilet and turned to the sink. Washing his hands, he could hear sounds through the wall. He stopped, thinking it was the water when he realised, it wasn't. The sounds were eerily disturbing and at first, he didn't understand what they were. They sounded painful, like people crying or wailing.

Greg left the bathroom and stopped in front of the study, glancing over his shoulder. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The noise was louder now and more clearly defined. He walked around, his body rigid and adrenaline high.

He followed the sounds, too startled by them to think about anything else. To the bookcase, he crept and stood still. The sounds were too loud to ignore now.

Suddenly, it was quiet and Greg could no longer hear the sounds he'd heard before. He sighed and looked at the stained glass window to the other side of the room, lost in his own thoughts and paranoia that he didn't realise what he was leaning over. His hand slipped on the desk that he had been pressing his weight against and stumbled back when he realised he'd knocked over a tower of papers.

"Crap," he said to himself as his back touched the bookshelf behind him. He turned to see a dislodged book, which he then attempted to pull out and reposition on one of the lower shelves but to his surprise, the bookshelf began to shift.

The shelves moved so that an entrance to a secret basement revealed itself. He was astonished and immediately felt the atmosphere change around him as he hesitantly took the first step down.

He finally made his way downstairs, uncertain of what he would find. Emerging from the shadows, he felt his heart stop at the sight of the night creatures, huddled together in a confined cell.

Some of them slobbered and groaned but other than that, there was little movement. He stayed by the wall, staring wide eyed at them. Pushing his hair away from his forehead, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Their faces had been mutilated, some of them with open wounds that clearly hadn't healed. They exhibited missing eyes and disfigured limbs as they lay on the floor and each other, like sleeping children.

Greg dragged his eyes away from them and looked at the door opposite him. He could hear noises from behind it, sending a chill through his body.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he slowly walked to the door. He felt like he was in a dream, unaware of how his feet were carrying him forward when his body was frozen with fear.

His hand touched the cold metal handle and attempted to open the door. It was locked. He pressed his ear against the door, listening to the soft crying of someone inside. They sounded human to him. His heart pounded in his chest. Why did they sound human?

"Who's in there?" Greg asked in a low voice, afraid to provoke the creatures.

He looked over his shoulder again to make sure they hadn't moved. He was relieved to see they hadn't.

The sounds stopped and Greg frowned, only to hear a man begin to shout.

"He's dead! He's dead!" the stranger cried.

Greg stood on his toes so he could see through the door. Inside, the man crying immediately spotted Greg in the glass.

"Save us, please!" the man yelled at the door.

Greg could hear his heart beating in his own ears. He lowered himself back down, startled that he'd been seen.

He looked at the lock and instinctively, pressed his palm over it. Slowing his breathing, he closed his eyes and concentrated on unlocking the door. To his surprise, the door clicked open. Greg didn't have long to feel proud of himself as he opened the door soon after.

Reluctantly looking away fromg the dead body on the table, he looked at the people behind the bars. He was staring at pale and malnourished faces, all dressed in dirty raggedy clothes. He wondered how long they had been there.

"Please, please," one of the smaller ones said, weakly pointing at the lock.

"Don't let him come back! Please! Don't let him come back!" a woman screamed and Greg nearly lost balance from feeling so lightheaded.

"Who are you?" Greg asked, confused.

"Please save us," the smaller man said, inching closer. "Save us before he returns."

Greg looked over his shoulder, anxiously. "Who?"

"He's a mad man, he uses our bodies for his sick magic," the man told Greg.

"Please, just please let us go."

Greg's mind was in a frenzy as he looked at their faces and deep down he knew that they were no threat to him. He was stalling and didn't know why.

He stepped towards them, slowly and finally unlocked the door before stepping away quickly. They could hardly walk as they struggled to get out of the cell. Greg watched them walk out and one of them bolted for the stairs, holding on to the wall for support as he did.

Leaving the room, Greg looked at the creatures once more.

"No!" one of the men shouted as he staggered towards them.

"Hey, stay away from those things!" Greg yelled but the man fell to his knees.

"Chris! Chris!" the man shouted, his face red as he choked back tears.

Greg watched in confusion and the realisation almost came to him in slow motion. He looked at the creature that blubbered spit on the floor being called 'Chris' and then back at the man who'd already burst into tears.

"We need to go, now," Greg said, his voice shaking as he tapped the man on the shoulder.

The man stood up, with support from Greg and finally they left the basement. Greg reached the front door when he realised that he didn't know where he was going.

Greg glanced at the humans and suddenly heard someone call his name from afar.

Ace was back home.

"Grab my hand everyone!" Greg yelled.

The people were confused, looking around bewildered.

"NOW!" Greg roared.

Everyone held on to Greg and in the sheer panic of the moment, Greg transported them. It felt like his body was thrown into a storm, never having transported before. He was afraid he'd kill them by mistake but when his feet finally met the gound, he felt relief wash over him.

Pressing his hand over his chest, Greg tried to catch his breath. The others looked at Greg, clearly as surprised as he was.

"He's just like him," one of the men said, afraid.

"What?"

"You can do things," he replied, his eyes wide.

Greg sighed and shook his head. "Okay, we need to talk but not here. I don't know where we are but we need somewhere to hide."

None of them argued with him.

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They filed into the room as Harry and another man named Philip boarded up the basement door. They'd found an abandoned shoe store to stay for the night.

Greg turned around and wiped his hands on his trousers before climbing down.

"We're not safe here," the woman said as she hugged her knees on the carpet.

"We're not safe anywhere really," Greg muttered as he took a juice box from the supply they'd gathered earlier.

He could feel Eric's eyes on him as he took a seat on the floor.

"We should charm the place, you know. Like you said," Eric finally said.

"We will, just take a break. Sunset isn't until an hour."

"Still.." he insisted.

"It'll be fine," Greg snapped. "We're fine, okay? Can I rest my legs for five minutes or-"

"Okay," Eric said in surrender.

Greg drank his orange juice and scrunched the box in his hand, tossing it in the bin near him.

"How long did Ace have you guys?" Greg finally asked.

Eric glanced at the others before shrugging, "I don't know man, it felt like forever."

The others didn't speak much but seemed to be a little relaxed in their new clothes and full bellies.

"So the things that Ace had locked up are actually human? Or were humans?" he corrected himself.

Philip looked at Greg and then looked away, laying down on the carpet. He turned on his side and closed his eyes, ignoring the conversation.

"That's his name? Ace?" the woman, Mariah asked.

"Yeah."

"If you knew the man why didn't you come sooner?"

"I- I didn't know what he was doing."

"He used us, mutilated us and made abominations out of us," she said, bitterly.

"I didn't know."

"Yeah well, you know what he is now. And what's happening right now, the smoke and the killings, it's him. It was always him."

"Is there any way to stop him?" Greg asked the obvious question.

Eric looked at him, "The man is a psycho. God knows what he gave them and I doubt it's easy to reverse."

"But not impossible..." Greg hoped.

The woman with the shaved head looked at Greg. "Child, I hope you're not thinking of going back. He is the devil."

Greg ran his hand over his face, "What does he even want?"

The woman looked at him dead in the eye, her lips quivering as she spoke.

"He wants us extinct. It's magic folk like him that he thinks should rule this world."

"He can't kill off the whole world," Greg said.

"Can't he?"

Greg looked at her in disbelief.

"He's gotten this far without anyone stopping him, hasn't he?"

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