It was a chilly October night when John Farley stumbled home from the pub.

That night, he had many reasons to drink.

The cold, the fact that in the 1820s beer was sometimes cleaner than water, but also,

he had lost touch with his dear friend, Fred.

Not out of spite or disagreement, but Fred had actually disappeared without a trace

a few months prior.

He hadn't left a note, he hadn't said goodbye, and he hadn't taken anything from his

house with him.

There was something odd about the way Fred left town, but that night, as John is tripping

down the cobblestone roads, just as he passes his old friend Fred's property, he catches

something out of the corner of his eye.

At first, he ignores it, but something in his brain registers it as familiar.

He looks up, then away, and then double takes back.

Fred?

Is that you?

Standing across the street on the corner of his old friend's property is Fred, the friend

that vanished.

John can't believe it, but his excitement sours when he realizes Fred isn't saying anything.

Actually, his expression doesn't change at all.

He's looking directly at John with cold, expressionless eyes and a gaping mouth.

Upon approaching Fred, John gets the sense that it's not actually him.

No, this isn't even human.

...