Welcome to the world of The Storyteller Society, where you will read time woven tales of mystery and suspense, and the occasional 'who done it'.

Before I begin the story, I should tell you something about who I am… or who I was. Once I was just a man who listened. I wrote down what people told me about the strange things that happen in the quiet towns when the world isn't paying attention. I didn't believe most of them, but the stories believed in me.

There came a time when I was meant to leave this life behind, perhaps only days away from the end, and that's when the stories all came to me at once, whispering from the corners of the room. They said I could stay, if I would listen and remember. And under the haze of a thick fever, I agreed.

That was the bargain I made. I tell the stories, and each one I write buys another night. Another letter, another heartbeat, but the debt grows heavier as time goes on, and they wait for me to grow tired and falter. They always wait.

So, when you read what follows, know that these are not just tales, but they are offerings. And if the air cools as you read on, or the shadows lengthen at your feet, do not be afraid, it means they are listening too.