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from The Witchhammer by Genia Jones

Chapter 1

The dark figure seemed to materialize out of the fog. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. Then again, I hadn’t had my morning coffee, and it was still early enough that it was dark out, the streets filled with a dense, wet fog that muffled sound and made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. It was the time of day I loved best, if I could get myself out of bed to enjoy it. The streets quiet and not yet filled with delivery trucks and people rushing on their way to work, and that fam...

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