Shadow Fighters

Part One,
The Magnar.

A cloaked man walked in through the doorway and looked around at all the artifacts displayed around the cottage. His soulless, empty eyes scoured the room, ghoulish thrills running up his spine as his eyes sought only one thing.

"Can I help you?" A sweet voice chimed and he barely contained himself from breaking her neck for severing his concentration.

He turned to her but didn't offer a reply. And then his eyes caught the glint of blue behind her.

A slow smirk crept on his lips.

The sapphire stone just lay there, immobile, shining in all its glory, tiny white webs creating a mesh on the immaculate surface, embedded into the rustic slab of metal. After years of searching and here it lay, on show for everyone to see.

His slithery voice hissed out a question and a compliment about the stone and it's owner, which made the petite woman blush. His tongue curled at the roof of his mouth, hands as pale as a ghost, rubbing themselves together as if planning a big scheme.

And then he was gone, the lapels of his black tailcoat flicking around the corner.

Later that night, as she collected the dishes after dinner while rubbing her protruding belly affectionately, the woman told her husband about the strange man and his piqued interest in the stone. The man froze midway, carrying his wailing daughter in his arms as his mouth half-opened to comfort her.

His eyes shone in fear as the candlelight bounded off of his face. His face paled and even the little girl stopped crying as if sensing her father's apprehension.

"It's happening," he whispered anxiously, gripping his daughter tight.

"What?" The woman stumbled back and cried. "It can't be! That was over a 100 years ago!"

"It's starting again," he said frightfully and just at that moment, the window of the living room shattered.