Mystic Island /// PART 7 – The Blackrider Abduction

The night is lit by the full moon, mist drifting across the beach.
In the foreground, the headless Blackriders charge forward on their black horses, sparks flying from the hooves. The leading rider grips a bound figure with his flesh‑hook hand — a Pretty Rider whose silver armor glimmers in the moonlight. The Blackrider’s whip cracks through the air while the others secure the surroundings. Behind them, the massive black carriage rolls forward, its doors wide open, ready to swallow the victim whole. Waves crash against the shore, and the Devil’s Tornado glows with bluish light on the horizon, as if watching the scene unfold.


The Escape of the Shadow Riders
The Blackriders thunder across the beach with their captive, their black horses striking sparks while mist curls around their hooves like cold fingers. The bound Pretty Rider is thrown over the leader’s shoulder — though headless, the rider moves with eerie precision and purpose. Behind them, the black carriage creaks, its doors gaping like a hungry maw.


The Pretty Riders Discover the Abduction
Only seconds later, the Pretty Riders reach the site of the attack. The traces are unmistakable: deep hoofprints, torn ropes, a piece of silver armor lying in the sand. Their blond leader kneels, touches the ground, and senses the lingering energy of the Blackriders — cold, electric, filled with shadow. He lifts his gaze to the full moon.
“They’re not far.”


The Devil’s Tornado Reacts
On the horizon, the tornado begins to glow again. Not red. Not white. Not black. But all three colors at once — as if it can feel the abduction. The air crackles, and a deep rumble rolls through the island, as though Mystic Island itself is enraged.


The Pursuit Begins
The Pretty Riders mount their horses. Their white armor gleams in the moonlight, and their horses’ hooves strike bright sparks as they follow the Blackriders’ trail. The wind rises, the tornado pulses, and the island seems to narrow — as if driving hunters and hunted toward an unavoidable fate.


The Blackriders Reach Their Hideout
Deep in the forest, where the trees rise like black spears into the sky, the Blackriders finally halt. Their hideout is an ancient ruin, half consumed by roots, half by shadow. The carriage rolls inside, and the doors slam shut. An ominous glow seeps through the cracks.


The captured Pretty Rider is not alone. In the darkness, he hears a whisper. Another victim?
Or something far older?


 

• Autorensteckbrief von Harry Schloßmacher
• E-Mail senden an Harry Schloßmacher

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