The Crimson Sceptre

Agnes sat with tears rolling down her cheeks, cradling her grandmother s bloody head in her lap. Beside her lay Knox. The old mariner was unconscious, but breathing steadily. A dim red light pulsed in the otherwise darkened chamber, fluctuating in brightness as if it was alive. And as it lit up, two formless beings could be sighted by the door. Amorphous and covered in week-old ash.