Night of the Kobold

By Threetoe

A cold wind blew through the Thorpe that day. When the light was going dim, and farmer Johnson gathered his family to bed, there was a rap at the door. Johnson told his family to hush and slowly opened the door.

There lay the head of Johnson's favorite goat.

Johnson glanced around at the ramshackle huts but no one was to be found. He grabbed his staff and headed out to the tavern where the drunken louts probably bragged about their deed. As the sun sank beneath the trees the farmer's wife tucked her children into bed. She kissed the baby good night and fastened shut the window that stood above the crib.

The knock came to the door again. A rapid pounding that no villager would use. The woman moved slowly toward the door. Something moved beneath it. She bent to inspect the creeping shadow. It was a mass of a thousand worms. She started back, then turned and kicked the door open. A dark figure, the size of a child, ran into the darkness.

The baby cried out. The woman turned to find the window open. She ran toward the crib. A clawed hand came through the window and hurled a cord at her that caught her around the neck. It was a snake. She struggled toward the crib, wrestling with the snake that coiled around her neck. She watched helplessly as a cat-eared demon snatched her baby and fled into the night.