It was exceptionally cold that night as the village slept, the type of cold that you feel all the way through you, and the morning offered no respite from this chill as the villagers gathered together again, teeth chattering, and talked of the bone-chilling screams they'd heard in the night, as well. Looking around themselves, they realized a member of their village was missing. Quickly searching about, they found her head by the gate with their victim's from the other day, looking in toward their meeting place, with a trail of blood dragging off toward the woods.
Aliyah Wright, a villager, is dead.
It is day.