Dark Fae

Legends abound about me, passed down through the centuries. Some say I come for your soul to eat; others say I come for your children and leave changelings in their places. Most don’t believe in me, but a few still do. Those few cross themselves at every strange coincidence, praying I’ll pass their house and loved ones by.

Of all the legends about me, the stories all agree: when I come, it is with the rustling of a thousand insect wings. The tales are told that the person who is taken often complains about the sound of insectile buzzing getting louder and louder for days before they are gone.

The human eye cannot discern a pattern in my chosen victims. No one can tell who will be selected next until they hear my wings buzzing in their ears. I’ve been known to rupture eardrums with the buzzing; it’s so loud for my victim, but no one else is known to hear the sound.

The legends compare me to the Grim Reaper or the Angel of Death. I am neither and both at the same time. They have good reason to fear me, too, for I do not take them to Heaven or Hell. The place I take them is far worse than even they could imagine.

Contrary to the rumors and legends, I do not take their souls to be eaten. Their souls have nothing to do with what my kind wants. I bring the whole person back. Eating their soul or body has nothing to do with the tradition.

I take them back to the Palace of Nightmares, a place of torment for humans and pleasure for my kind, and what many have dared to cross to the dark side. There, we have figured out a way to milk the terror out of humans. In turn, our chemists have designed a drug from this terror that any of us can use and receive a high like no other.

This drug heightens our already heightened senses. It boosts our already fantastic speed. Our supernatural strength is sevenfold while on this drug. It is the drug of champions.

Soon, we will have enough of this drug to take back the human world. Once we have supplied our army, Humans, beware.