The Chestnut Man Novels & Stories

The abandoned castle stands as a chamber of darkness, dripping with an unsettling silence. ASHER, his body weakened and broken, is chained to a cold, rusty wall. His eyes are wide with horror as he watches the hooded man approach, his sinister presence imposing. The hooded Man slowly bends down, his movements deliberate and methodical. He retrieves the severed thumb from the ground, cradling it carefully with an air of macabre fascination. The dim light glints off the Anki knife he used, a glimmer of sadistic pleasure in his eyes.

I returned to the pack house with a basket full of mushrooms, and as I got closer, I thought I saw a strange man communicating with Carolina. I was amazed. Was there still a poison wolf in Poisoned Mist Forest that had not been frozen? The man had his back to me and I could not tell who he was. But for some reason, I felt he looked familiar. It was as if I had seen him somewhere before. Suddenly, Carolina pointed at me excitedly, and the man turned back. He and I met eye to eye. I saw his expression turn to horror. I belatedly realized that my face was uncovered. I quickly lowered my head and put my hood back on.

“Aye girlie, ya got any puffs?” Startled, Scarlett spins around to find a shabby man in his seventies. The man has shaggy white hair and he’s wearing a half torn hat. His shirt is in tatters and he stinks of alcohol. Scarlett shakes her head. “No,” she replies. “I don’t smoke.” “I know you don’t smoke, kitten.” She blinks in surprise. Kitten? The man raises his head and hazel eyes sparkle at her. Scarlett is so shocked that she almost yelps.

The dense forest suddenly broke apart. A figure covered in the shadows walked out from within to block Chase's way. "Who are you?" Chase asked calmly. The man's face was covered. He was wearing a black cape that hid his face and aura. There was something eerie and sinister about him. Chase's eyes narrowed as he stared at the man. The man said coldly, "You can call me Man in Black. The three men you killed were my companions!" "Oh?" Chase smiled sardonically at this.

THE MAN IN YELLOW

I peek behind Pyotr's shoulder and see the rest of the people who were taken following behind us. I shift my head, now looking at the manor. The manor has a way of belonging to the land it graced. Its walls are varying shades of grays and browns hidden behind tall withering black trees. The moonlight cast upon it makes it look as if it were glowing. I would be in awe of such a grand manor, but this place is not a house from a fairytale, but rather a nightmare. The black trees surrounding the manor look almost alive, and feel if I look away for even a moment they will move. My heart hammers in my ears and I unconsciously grab onto Pyotr's clothes. He looks down at me, releasing an annoyed sig

"But Mommy, Mr. Jefferson's already really nice to us. I don't want to pretend to be sick to trick him…" "Shh! You're not pretending. You have severe depression, and you're not allowed to say otherwise again!" Then, Jacob's pained yelp rang out. "Mom, you're hurting me…" "Be good, Jacob. As long as you listen, I'll buy you the toy you want most." I shot a cold look at the staggering Harold in front of me. My voice was edged with mockery. "You heard it, didn't you? That's the childhood sweetheart you were so desperate to protect.

Greta said, placing the water filled pot on the eye of the stove, turning it on high. “Yeah? What was it?” “A man came by today.” Greta said, pointedly. Cheyenne still oblivious continued to cut tomatoes and wait for Greta to continue. “A beautiful man at that.” Greta said. “A beautiful man? What did he need?” Cheyenne smiled slightly at Greta’s choice of words. “He was looking for you.” Cheyenne stopped chopping the tomatoes and turned her full attention on Greta. “What man was this, Greta? What did he look like?”

I let him fall to the floor as I addressed the problem, making my way through the dense crowd. It was a lotus eater, the man in question looked nineteen but his clothes had him playing the part of a Jacobin upstart. He was crowding a man who was an unclaimed changeling of the Undine variety, completely human save for the soft blue sheen to his skin and the way he looked like he'd gone through a tempest.

The Commander liked it that way. From her vantage point on the low ridge, the farmhouse looked almost innocent: weathered wood, a crooked chimney, its windows glowing with the faint orange of a lantern. Quiet, rustic, human. Her gloved hand lifted the small scope to her eye. Behind that glassy pane, a shadow moved—the taller one. Broad shoulders, slow, careful pacing. The man in the gray coat. Her lips curved, just slightly. Adrian.