The Coming

The moon was full, and the stars were shining brightly through the haze of this night. Speed strained his eyes. In the mist, there stood a shapely woman, on a cliff’s edge. She called out someone’s name. In each hand, she held a tiny black book with their blood speckled pages flipping in the wind.
“Christine! Emma! Christine!” she called, “I’m coming, my babies!” and she leaped over the cliff's edge, taking the books into the emptiness below. Along with her screams she flew, and the darkness...