The river looked like black ink under the red moon. Fog covered the water and the houses along the banks. The only sound was the wooden boat creaking as it moved slowly through the mist.
A young man rowed, his hands tight on the oars. Beside him sat an old man, leaning forward with sharp eyes.
“Row faster,” the old man whispered. “Before she sees us.”
The young man swallowed. “Old man… the stories… she isn’t real, right?”
The old man shook his head. “She is. The Queen… she kills anyone who gets close.”
Ahead, a shadow moved on the riverbank. A woman appeared. She wore a long black coat and a big hat that hid her face. She didn’t speak, but something about her made the air cold.
The old man whispered, “She looks like a girl… maybe we can help her.”
The young man nodded. “Come with us,” he said, motioning to the boat. “We’ll take you somewhere safe.”
She didn’t say anything. She just stepped into the boat. The water rocked under her weight. The crows nearby cried loudly, circling above them.
The old man and the young man tried to talk quietly, warning each other about the Queen. Then the old man noticed something shining.
"The earring…” he whispered.
The young man looked. On her ear was a black earring shaped like a crow.
Suddenly, a long, eerie whistle filled the air. The crows screamed. The fog seemed to move closer.
Before the men could react, she moved. Dark magic shot from her hands. Screams filled the night. The boat rocked violently, then broke apart. The river swallowed the men.
When the fog cleared, the red moon shone above the Thames. The boat was gone. Only the two men’s lifeless bodies floated in the black water, their faces twisted in terror. A single black earring and a crow feather drifted nearby, shining under the crimson moon.
The Queen Of Crows had returned
Comments (1)
See all