The Killing Mist III. The Killing MistA knight of the realm, standing at the prow of a warship. He is sailing for home, triumphant, a golden sword at his hip, his cloak billowing. A young woman is there, on the shore, watching him, seeing all he has become … But look closer. The knight’s cloak is crimson, and glistening. It is made of flesh and blood. And its rippling has nothing to do with the wind. The cloak is still living. It is writhing twisting constricting … Robin woke choking and frantic, feeling trapped in a body that was not his own. He took long shuddering breaths. His limbs came to rest with a final spasm and twitch, and he lay there gathering his senses.He found he was in a natural shelter beneath a shelf of rock. He did not recall crawling in here. He searched his memory to see what he did remember and he found … something raw and dripping … voices screaming … the stench of …He pushed these thoughts away, crawled quickly out of the hollow. From nearby came the trilling of a stream.
