And so another group assembled. The moon shone like the eye of a great forgotten deity, peering down on the hooded figures who worked tediously on the pyre between them.
Old branches, gnarled and bony, reached into the pyre as more hoods broke into the meadow. No one knew why they had been gathered here, in the deep wood that bordered the black lake. But, like their ancestors, the call to arms was one they could not deny.
And as sudden as they all appeared, a creature formed from within the darkness, dark green flesh glimmering with the faint caress of the moonlight. Blood red hair surrounded its shoulders, and as its face appeared, the hooded men and women uniformly gasped.
A face, half melted and eaten, glared at them all with malice. Its bleached bone skull demanded the attention of the assembly, and its sunken eyes, red with rage, spoke only hatred. And then, it opened its mouth. A void of razor sharp fangs appeared, and then it was over.
The sounds of sirens filled the morning air, and the police officer observed the massacre, unable to discern the foot prints left behind...