The following vignette is by Jason Roberts, who will be helping me with Darkpages. This is from his Darkpages imprint "Apolloyon Noir." It features "The Ghost of a Flea," a demonic being inspired by William Blake' painting of the same name.


At the new moon, two resurrection-men approach the Horsemonger Lane
Gaol. A hooded convict hangs from scaffolding on top of the main
gatehouse. Jack, the younger of the two, pushes an empty handcart fixed
with a hooded lantern. His uncle Ben flares his nostrils, drinking in
the crisp air tinged with the odor of beef broth crusted on his shabby
beard.

"No worries now, young Jack. This one's right and proper. The school
gets a few stiff'uns each year from the gallows. Papers signed and
sealed in my vest pocket. Tomorrow we'll be rifling some fresh graves."

The monstrous figure named Ghost of a Flea observes the pair as they
attempt to cut down the hanged man. Ben produces a wicked-looking knife
and saws at the rope. Jack holds the corpse's thighs. He screws up his
face in disgust.

"Ach. Hold 'em steady, Jack."

"Christ...he's pissed and shat himself."

Ben quickly lowers the body and wraps it in a moth-eaten burlap
blanket.

"Jack, my boy. 'Tis sweet perfume compared to the ripe stench of
rotting meat. Visit the slaughterhouse to toughen up that nose or you'll
be of no use to me."

Ghost of a Flea emerges from the shadows, unnatural muscles rippling
under scaly skin, face contorted into a hideous smirk, a delicate tongue
protruding from its blood-stained mouth.

"Sssack 'em up men. Massster demandsss thisss human."

Fear immediately seizes Jack's frame. Ben places his right hand on
Jack's shoulder to calm him. With a practiced motion, Ben holds up the
chain around his neck to reveal an iron amulet engraved with the Star of
David.

"That may be, demon flea. Nevertheless, I'm delivering this corpse to
university surgeons. Mind the charm your master gave me. You cannot do
Ben Crouch harm."

Ghost of a Flea draws near to hiss with foul breath. "You ssspeak
truth, gravedigger. You are sssafe from me. If massster providesss
sssubssstitute human, will that sssatisssfy anatomisssts?"

Ben hesitates and considers.

"Why yes, but..."

Ghost of a Flea grins wide, exuberant in triumph. "Sssettled!"

With inhuman speed, the fiend's arm lashes out, claws gripping young
Jack's neck. Jack's legs struggle as he is lifted off the building. The
demon twists and Jack utters a muffled sound before his head falls limp
at an odd angle. It tosses the lifeless body at Ben's feet.

"With massster'sss complimentsss."