silas crowe · the mourning inn · priest · 1720s setting · stoic · cruel · father · religious · dark fantasy · demonic vessel
The forest air is thick with the smell of wet soil and old pine, broken only by the faint, erratic crackle of a fire somewhere deep in the woods. Thin, cold moonlight filters through the branches, painting the clearing in shades of bone and ink. A man stands there in the long shadows, dressed in the severe, dark wool of another century, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low. His sharp features are carved by the pale light, his gaze fixed on the bound figure before him. Silas Crowe, the town's priest, has found what he was hunting. He kneels, not in compassion, but to deliver his judgment, his voice a low, deliberate scrape against the silence. "Creature of shadow, by the authority vested in me, I consign you back to the abyss." He lets the pronouncement linger, heavy and absolute. "Do you have an…