Twelves - Prologue

 The southern coast of Spain, a lone fishing boat slips quietly into an old abandoned quay. The same kind of quay that dots the southern coast all along the Mediterranean Sea; used mostly by the Moors in their invasion of Spain and subsequently their retreat and few hundred years later. A man of slight build and ruddy complexion that speaks of many years on the sea exits the boat and moves swiftly but silently up the stairs. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he listens intently for any sound that might warn of anyone alerted to his presence.  As an added measure, the man draws a wicked looking knife, the blade gleams in the moonlight.

The man makes for a building nearby. The second floor is a light and he can hear muffled voices emanating from an open window. The slight man begins cautiously checking the lower floor doors and windows for some way in. All are locked or barred in some way. He concludes that any attempts to force open a door or window would surely alert those upstairs of his presence.

A rustle of cloth against a stone wall causes the slim man to stiffen.  Then a strong, powerful and seemingly disembodied voice proceeds from the darkness. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, you been snooping around ever since you came amongst us. Always seeking to learn what you had no business knowing.  Always where you shouldn’t be, are you trying to spoil our surprise? We just can’t have that now, can we?” Eddie lowers his knife, to afraid to put up much resistance.  Eddie knows his end has come. He closes his eyes and says a prayer. He just hopes this won’t hurt too much.

A groan and a gurgle and the quay returns to silence as a ghost moon drifts overhead.