The Fanged Four

Existential Scooby Writers ~ Aug 12 2002

Meanwhile, the four were unaware that they had an observer, who kept a careful eye on them while she served them their drinks, and made their beds. Grace had not dismissed that chilling moment on the stairs, understanding that it was a warning. Being the maid of all work and the daughter of the boarding house landlady Mrs Emerson besides, she was afforded many opportunities to consider what might have caused it. Who might have caused it. And the four new guests just stood out, startlingly larger than life in the small confined rooms of the house.

Grace was aided by the uncanny ability to simply step out of the shadows and then melt back into them. The new guests seemed to be able to do the same, when it suited them. Well, it only seemed to suit the dark man. The others were careless, defiant almost. The blonde woman. Darla, her name was. Darla swept about the house as if she owned it, if it wasn't beneath her dignity to lay claim to such a humble place.



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