Dante sat on the bus while the people around him talked and ughed. He put his AirPods into his ears, and the music quickly swallowed the noise around him. The world outside faded into the background. Through the window, he watched the trees pass by one after another as the bus rolled down the highway. After a moment, Dante reached into his bag and pulled out a folder. It felt strange in his hands. In his line of work, information usually came through an email—not something printed and handed over like this. He opened the folder. Inside was a photograph of a small town, a location circled in red. Dante studied it for a moment. I know I’m from a small town, he thought, but this pce looks like it barely exists. He flipped the page and found several police reports clipped together, his eyes moving slowly across the lines as he began to read. They all contained reports of missing people and strange events in the town and the surrounding woods. Ashwood was the town. It had once been a logging town and was still rgely a farming community. To Dante, it looked like what he would call Midwest Gothic—a small town in Wisconsin that the locals wanted investigated. He pulled out one report and read it while the people around him went about their early morning routines. The paper was a copy of a police report given to Dante by his benefactor, but as he read it, it unfolded like a horror novel.

  ASHWOOD POLICE DEPARTMENT

  Ashwood, Wisconsin

  INCIDENT REPORT

  Reporting Officer: Officer Marshall

  Case Type: Missing Persons / Suspicious Incident

  Location: Old Church – Outskirts of Ashwood

  Date Filed: [Unknown / Not Provided]

  Witnesses:

  1.Ashton Roth – Age 15

  2.William Anderson – Age 16

  Missing Individuals:

  1.Allen Westlow – Age 16

  2.Allissa Kirkwood – Age 16

  Statement Summary:

  At approximately an unknown time, two male juveniles, Ashton Roth (15) and William Anderson (16), entered the Ashwood Police Station appearing distressed and disoriented.

  Officer Marshall observed both individuals dispying signs of fear and agitation. Both witnesses repeatedly scanned the room and appeared highly anxious.

  The witnesses reported that their friend Allen Westlow (16) and his girlfriend Allissa Kirkwood (16) had disappeared earlier that evening.

  According to the witnesses, the four individuals had gone to the abandoned church located on the outskirts of Ashwood. While inside the building, Westlow and Kirkwood reportedly separated from the group and entered another room.

  Roth and Anderson estimate approximately ten minutes passed before they heard a loud scream coming from the room the couple had entered. The witnesses then observed a bright blue light shining from beneath the door.

  The witnesses opened the door and reported observing an unidentified humanoid creature inside the room.

  Both witnesses described the entity as approximately seven to eight feet tall with blue skin. The witnesses stated the entity appeared to have both male and female physical characteristics, specifically describing one side of the chest as female and the other as male.

  The witnesses further described the entity as having:

  ?A thin head with a pointed chin

  ?No visible nose

  ?Sunken cheeks

  ?Eyes resembling a cat’s eyes with white irises and solid bck pupils

  ?Large, bck teeth described as “shark-like”

  The witnesses stated the creature was holding both missing individuals in its hands.

  According to the witnesses, the entity then threw both individuals into what was described as a glowing blue portal. The witnesses stated the portal appeared pale blue and they were unable to see through it.

  The witnesses further stated the creature moved almost silently. Before entering the portal, the entity reportedly turned toward the witnesses and pced a long finger over its mouth in what appeared to be a gesture for silence.

  The witnesses cim the entity spoke a single word: “Yellow.”

  The creature then entered the portal and disappeared.

  Both witnesses described the creature’s feet as resembling human feet but significantly rger.

  Dante put the paper down for a moment, thinking to himself, What the fuck did I just read? He changed the song and pulled out his iPad, beginning to sketch the creature based on the boys’ description. It was quick, but it got the point across. Before all this, Dante had gone to art school, a background that helped in his line of work, which involved handling reports and eyewitness testimonies.

  When he finally set down his Apple Pencil, he felt someone sit beside him and removed his AirPods. He looked over at her. The first thing he noticed was her scent—vanil, sweet and pleasing to the nose. Then he gnced at her, just enough to take in her presence. She wore bck jeans and a bck hoodie. Her face was round, yet still feminine, framed by dark brown wavy hair that fell just below her shoulders.

  As she turned to look at him, her blue-green eyes caught his attention. “Oh, are you an artist?” she asked.

  Dante didn’t answer immediately, entranced by the way the colors in her eyes mixed, then by her red lips and kind expression. Finally, he said, “You could say I am.” He smiled kindly at her.

  She leaned slightly closer, gncing at his sketch. “Ah, you’re drawing the Ashwood alien. That’s a pretty good take on it.”

  Dante was taken aback as he looked at her. “Is that what they call this creature?”

  El nodded. “Yes. I’m from Ashwood. I was visiting my parents—I’ve been in Chicago for work. When that incident happened, my mother was scared out of her mind, and my father… well, he wants to get guns and hunt the thing.”

  Dante studied her, realizing she could be a valuable asset. And, he admitted to himself, she wasn’t too bad to look at. She pushed her hair back from her ear, revealing a delicate ring of bats around her neck. Her nails were painted bck, and she wore a simple Apple Watch on her left wrist.

  Then Dante realized he’d been rude. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Dante Helsong. And you are?”

  She gave a polite smile. “I’m El Leon.”

  Dante returned the smile, noting that they seemed about the same age. She caught his gnce and tilted her head slightly.

  “You’re named after the poet, aren’t you? Dante Alighieri,” she said.

  Dante chuckled. “Yes. My mother was a big fan of his poem Inferno.”

  Dante rode with her for the rest of the bus ride. As they drew closer to Ashwood, the bus began to empty, letting passengers off at various stops. When it reached the town, Dante and El stepped off together while the remaining passengers continued on toward Milwaukee.

  Dante stood beside her as she scanned the streets for her parents. Soon, her mother’s SUV pulled up, and El climbed in. She gnced at Dante.

  “You want a ride?” she asked.

  Dante shook his head. “Nah, I have someone to meet.”

  She smiled, closing the door. “Well, I gave you my number.”

  Dante grinned. “Yeah, I’ll contact you. You said there’s a small café?”

  El returned his smile, her mother watching with interest from the driver’s seat. “It’s a date, then. See you around.”

  The Chevy SUV pulled away, leaving Dante standing on the quiet streets of Ashwood, a small smile lingering on his face.

  Dante looked around. No one was nearby. He walked past the school and the small post office, making his way to the library.

  The library stood tall with its pilrs and two staircases leading up to the gss doors. Dante climbed the stairs and pushed the doors open. Inside, an older dy sat at a computer. He smiled at her, and she nodded, telling him to let her know if he needed anything. Dante acknowledged her with a nod as he made his way to the back of the library.

  In the reading area, a man sat in one of the five chairs. His face was harsh—not angry, but weathered, like life had been unkind over the years. He wore a police uniform, modern enough to include a pte carrier beled Ashwood Police. A Glock 17 rested at his side as he studied Dante.

  “You Dante Helsong?” he asked.

  Dante walked over and sat in the chair next to him. He pulled out his iPhone and set it on the table. “I am. Do you mind if I record this for reference ter?”

  The officer nodded. “Not a problem.”

  He shook Dante’s hand, then leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone.

  The old officer looked at Dante, his blue eyes sharp and steady. “Well… where do I start? What unexpined creature or happening would you like to know about, son?”

  Dante met his gaze. “My benefactor wanted to know more about this Ashwood alien—the one who took the couple in the old church.”

  The officer ughed, but it wasn’t a funny ugh. It was cold, low, and unsettling. “That’s not the only people it’s taken, son.”

  Dante’s hand moved over his iPad with his Apple Pencil, scribbling notes. “How many people has it taken?”

  The officer looked around nervously, as if speaking too loudly might make the words vanish. “It’s been taking people ever since I was a kid… I’m sixty now, son.”

  Dante stayed silent, letting him continue as he wrote.

  “It’s rumored to have existed long before this town was built. Go ask the Ho-Chunk natives… they might tell you tales older than the trees in these woods.”

  Dante scribbled more notes, his mind racing. Then he looked up. “In the report I read, it said… only ‘Yellow.’”

  The officer’s eyes locked on Dante’s. “The King in Yellow,” he said slowly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

  Dante looked at him. “The King in Yellow… you think it’s real?”

  The officer’s blue eyes were steady, but the weight in them was unmistakable. “He is very real. I was sitting in my patrol car one night, on the same road you rode that bus down. I turned my head, and there was a figure… wrapped in a long yellow cloth that covered its face. The outline of its head… it just stared at me.”

  Dante leaned forward, letting him continue.

  “I was so gripped with fear I reached for my gun and fired two shots. The bullets… they went right through . The thing—it healed as fast as I made the holes.”

  The officer’s hands clenched on his knees. “On the other side of my car stood… what you call the Ashwood alien. It was staring at me through the passenger-side window. All I heard was one word… Yellow. I couldn’t stay. My body screamed at me to move. I put the car in gear and drove into town. I didn’t stop until I got to the police department.”

  Dante let the words settle, letting the smell of old books and the cleaner recently applied to a nearby shelf fill the silence. The officer sat frozen, eyes wide, as if he had just relived every second of that night.

  Dante Helsongs sketch of the Ashwoood monster: