Snow blanketed the area.

  I was under the church, cleaning my guns and listening to Harrington grumbling in the next room.

  He was spending his time rotating between the three arcane items I now held in my possession.

  His resources and knowledge were limited, but he was not deterred. Every winter, he came and performed the experiments and tests he wanted to try to unlock the secrets of these items. He had tried to explain it to me once, but I stopped him and told him to tell me when he had figured out how they work.

  The muttering from next door told me it was still a work in progress.

  I thought about the winter so far. It had been a much milder winter up to this point than last year. The snow had come, but was not as deep. Herbert could get to the gates, but I had a standing instruction not to. The danger of sudden blizzards was real.

  The fireworks display heralded the arrival of the new year. I watched it from the top of the spatial bubble. January 1st and July 4th were the dates when the sky lit up with colour as the town celebrated.

  1903 was young, and my normal winter routine was progressing. Most of the weapons had been checked and cleaned. I was getting concerned about the age of much of the ammunition I owned and the dynamite in storage. The explosives were being checked regularly. The stick, sweating nitroglycerine, was a big worry.

  The muttering from next door went on as I put the now-clean Winchester rifle down. Instead of moving to the next weapon, I went to a box holding loose dollar bills and change. It was located on a shelf with a few items, such as flasks and watches, that were stripped from the dead. A single gold wedding ring stood out from among the pile.

  Opening the box, I took out the few notes and some loose change. I counted it again. The amount left me dispirited. I had a fortune in gold and silver, but that was not going to be touched.

  I put the money back and went back to work.

  As the snowfall was light, I often wandered the graveyard.

  My ability to shift my point of view yielded some very interesting perspectives on the graveyard in winter.

  Icicles hung from many places, and every flat or near flat surface had a layer of snow covering it.

  Should I take up photography?

  That was a regular thought I had through the month as I took in all the sights.

  Harrington had taught me a number of card tricks. It was something to add to the things I knew and could do. You never knew when some sleight of hand would come in handy. The rule was to keep the target of the trick distracted from what you are really doing.

  I might even pick up some real magic abilities down the line. That made me laugh.

  It was the end of the month when a surprise thaw set in, and my first visitors arrived.

  It was getting late with the sun now touching the mountains in the west when a large group of riders appeared. Eight men on weary horses. It was clear from the horse's condition that they had been ridden hard.

  They had a desperate, wide-eyed look, with many glancing over their shoulders. All had their hands near or on their guns. Two of the riders had injuries bandaged. I was willing to beat them; they were bullet wounds of some kind.

  "Up to no good, me thinks."

  I said to myself. I had been at the gates observing a melting icicle, which was the high point of my day, I am sad to say, when they came out of the trees.

  " Outlaws" was my first choice for describing them. They had that look of fear and desperation, not the look of veteran lawbreakers. Or they had bitten off more than they could chew. I leaned towards the first option.

  "Everyone dismount, we take the horses in single file." A bearded older man who appeared to be the leader was ordering as they approached the gates.

  "Higgins, do we really need to hide here? This place has a bad reputation." One of the other men wined.

  "Damn straight we do. This is the one place the local lawmen won't look for us!" He snapped back. The others had expressions ranging from indifference to fear.

  The local law will not come looking, as they knew what lurked here. Well, the Sheriff did.

  Higgins got the men moving in single file into the graveyard, taking the northern pathway. The horses were unhappy and agitated. The riders were walking them.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  The number of guns on display guaranteed that.

  I reached out to the Hunters, informed them of the situation, and had them gather near the Hateful Spirits' hunting grounds. Against eight, I was going to let her start.

  The sun was now dipping behind the mountains, and darkness was covering more of the graveyard. She would be active now.

  The men were slowed but trudged through the unmelted snow and slush on the path. There were complaints, but Higgins snarled and threatened them into silence. It seemed the church was the place to lie low.

  I stayed with them, ordering the Hunters into the U-shaped formation around the hunting grounds.

  "Remember when she attacks, the horses will bolt. They might be ready before."

  I added somewhat redundantly, as they all knew what would happen from experience.

  They would be there in a few minutes, and I raised my head to see if I could see her here yet. Her hunting grounds covered the northern access from the outer sixth ring to the inner fifth. Anyone walking the route would have to pass through here. The intruders were learning this as several turns forced them to backtrack with the horses, further delaying their progress through the graveyard.

  The sky was a fiery red as the sun dipped behind the mountains.

  On the side facing the outer wall, I saw the pale white light emanating from her form.

  "Here we go."

  I told the Hunters.

  The men were not aware of her yet, but the horses were getting more agitated, now pulling on their reins and whining.

  Their riders were trying to control them, not understanding the sudden shift in their attitudes.

  The sounds attracted the Hateful Spirit, which began approaching. She will see them in moments.

  She came out from around the corner of a tomb and onto the path. She glided towards the men even as it appeared she was walking. No footprints were left behind her.

  The horses were bucking and rearing in terror. The men were distracted by this and were still not aware of her.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The first came free and bolted, allowing others to do the same until all were running. It was then that they became aware of her.

  She was close, and as the men looked upon her, most became slack-jawed or consumed with lust. Her abilities were in full effect. It was Higgins who was closest yet seemed the least affected. His hand was on the grip of his revolver. The others started crowding behind him.

  "Who the hell are..." He never got to finish.

  Her scream and change told them everything they needed to know.

  They all responded by screaming themselves and running. Higgins jumped back, colliding with two behind him, causing all to collapse into a pile. His reflexes were good as he had pulled his revolver and fired as she closed.

  The bullet passed through her, and she was upon them.

  The screaming changed from fear and terror to pain.

  Blood, organs and even limbs started to fly in different directions.

  The Hateful Spirit moved quickly, not killing outright but wounding badly. She was moving after the fleeing men, striking them as she got closer.

  That was new. She used to slaughter and then move on.

  Three escaped but encountered my other Hunters.

  Harrington's sword sliced into the neck of the first.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Rodriguez jumped on the next hacking at him with his tomahawk.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  Roberson brought down the last by body tackling him and, with the advantage of being on top, sliced his throat after a brief tussle.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  The Hateful Spirit claimed the rest.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  [Hunter: Hateful Spirit, Level up!]

  The area was more like a battlefield after a squad was caught in an artillery barrage. It was too brutal for an animal attack. The Spirit had vanished. Body parts and blood were scattered everywhere. Steam was rising from the bodies as the cold winter air cooled them.

  "Right, let's get this cleaned up. One of you lucky contestants gets to go into the Spirits' hunting grounds while the others go find the horses."

  I wondered what the Spirit would now reveal.

  The next day, Sheriff Swan made his first visit to New Midian in several years.

  I had been half expecting him to show after the bodies were buried and the horses were delivered to Herbert.

  The alcohol and tobacco were split, leaving me with watches, some jewellery, a dozen firearms and $1095.68.

  The group had robbed a bank, it seemed. Several Marshals were looking for them, and one would be in Crossway later that day. He knew the group had headed this way and was hunting them.

  "They never came to town, and you have found no sign of them."

  "Are you sure that is what I have to tell him? They have witnesses placing them coming this way." He was worried. Marshal visits were never fun.

  "Did they come into or through town?"

  "No." He said hesitantly.

  "Have you found any sign of them?"

  He looked at the tacks on the snow and mud-covered earth. "No."

  "That means you are speaking the truth when the Marshal asks you."

  He nodded a bit more sure now of the story, but still uncertain. He was a weak man in the wrong position. I was going to have to get word to Senior Jaccob and Eleanor to strengthen his spine.

  "Remember, they never came to town. You have not seen them, and you do not know where they went."

  He shifted uncomfortably, and I knew there was more coming.

  "What about the money?" Came the question.

  "What money?"

  "The money stolen in the bank robbery." Good old greed had raised its head.

  "Well, as you never saw the robbers and they did not pass through town, then you don't know anything about the money."

  His face twisted in unhappiness. He wanted a share of the money that had been handed over to him. Well, he was in for a hard lesson on this. I was tight-fisted at best. He licked his lips nervously and was about to try again.

  "You know nothing about the robbers or the money".

  I said, cutting him off more forcefully now. He needed to understand the relationship here. He had probably grown accustomed to the power and prestige that came with the Sheriff's position, but here the power dynamic was very different.

  I added mentally to find out if he was corrupt. That might lead to problems.

  He shifted uncomfortably again. Trying to build up the courage to ask for a cut or the whole amount. Should I bring in a Hunter to reinforce my point?

  Before I reached out, he sagged slightly.

  "I haven't seen the robbers or the money they stole." There was a defeated tone in his voice with a slight edge of bitterness.

  "Good day, Sheriff Swan."

  He bid his own farewells, knowing he was dismissed, and went off. I watched him ride into the trees. I dismissed my avatar but remained at the gates.

  He had bristled at the dismissal and the lack of money from the bank robbers' haul.

  Envy leads to greed, and greed leads to foolish choices.

  He was already at greed.

  He was going to be a problem, I was sure of it now.

  Father Shane and now the good Sheriff. People I had to deal with.

  Should I arrange his return and take him into New Midian, never to be seen again?

  I already have several former occupants of the position here, and adding another might not be a good idea. I had to consider if he told anyone he was coming here. Sheriff Swan was a coward, but one who knew how to survive. I could not afford to think he might have an insurance policy in place.

  But then I might be overthinking it.

  I will need to speak with Herbert to carry a message from me into town to my allies so that they can deal with the good Sheriff.

  It might be time to have one of their own placed in the position to prevent further trouble.

  When are the next elections for the position of Sheriff?

  Another thing to add to the list of things I needed to do.

  I drifted back towards the church, thinking.

  As for the money, I need to think about that; placing a large amount into the New Genesis foundation was on the cards.

  I will have to pay for more clothes to be produced.

  Materials for Harrington's experiments.

  Books again for Harrington.

  I might just ask my Hunters what they might want within reason. That would be fairer on everyone.

  The Spirit still had not appeared. That was odd.

  February arrived, and my allies in Crossway handed the Sheriff Swan problem over to me. My solution was to kill him, but it wasn't a good idea in the long run. I was getting concerned about the Spirit. She had still not emerged from her lair, and I was thinking about heading in to see what was going on.

  The fact that was my solution made me sad as another indication of the distance from my old human self. I asked my Hunters for ideas on how to allocate my new funds, and I got some interesting responses.

  Rigger wanted a new blade set similar to Roberson.

  Rodriguez wanted some good-quality steaks and whiskey.

  McGregor was similar but added Cuban cigars to the request.

  Roberson wanted improved tools for stripping and preserving carcases.

  Blackstone wanted a bigger forge and more tools.

  Harrington asked for good quality tea, wine, pipe tobacco, and lots of old books.

  For the most part, what I expected. I began making plans.

  I placed a large order that will take time to complete. Eleanor was the route through which the order was placed, as her organisation had better access to what I wanted and assured me the delivery would be made as soon as possible. She had offered to supply the requested items for free, but I insisted on paying. That was a slippery slope.

  In the meantime, she excitedly told me about a recent development. The mild winter allowed her to stay longer.

  "It was the first radio signal of any strength transmitted from America to Britain. There had been many from Newfoundland, but this was the first from the United States." She was positively bouncing as she spoke. The promise of radio was visible now, and her Sisters were quietly supporting its development to reap the benefits.

  "That is good to hear."

  I kept my answer neutral. I had no in-depth knowledge of radio's development. I just knew it started in this decade and really took off in the 20's and 30's. I pointed them to this new technology and the film to honour my agreement with them. Both technologies were now coming into play, and the sisters were involved.

  "Your words of the future are true, and we, the Daughters of Medusa, thank you for trusting in us, Keeper." She was still beaming and laying it on thick. She wanted something.

  "Thank you for your kind words."

  I really want to say, "Get on with it." She might have sensed that from my tone or body language. I might have let that slip.

  "We now humbly ask for great direction with the knowledge you have given us." She shifted to a more respectful and humble demeanour and tone.

  "Have I not given you all you need to be ready for these new additions to the media of this world? Have I not told you where to be to profit the most from them?"

  Damn it! What were they after?

  "My sisters were hoping that you could direct us to opportunities that allow our influence to expand faster."

  And there it was. The Daughters of Medusa were seeking to bypass the hard work and use my knowledge to cheat their way into positions of power and influence fast. I had to shut that down without insulting her or her sisters. What could I say? I took my best stab at it.

  "The world humanity lives in is based on choices. Every day choices define and shape it. I have told you what to look for. Use what I have said to influence and guide those choices. Radio is likely to be in New York, while film will be in Los Angeles. If the ventures you take fail, it will be on the choices you and your sisters make."

  She is not happy; her pout is a clear sign of that. I have given them enough to show that the progress of technology is accurate.

  I will not give them more... yet.

  I can see the changes more every year. Zeppelins were increasing. Conflicts were breaking out or ending in different ways. Social differences were far more pronounced. What I knew was fast becoming irrelevant, and I had to hoard what I could still use.

  Eleanor understood that I was not going to give her more and brought our meeting to a close, promising to deliver the items I had ordered as soon as they all arrived.

  I then watched her leave.

  I did not dismiss my avatar straight away; instead, I walked back to the church. I did not do this often at this time of year, but the weather was pleasant enough, so I used it as an opportunity to think.

  What was going on with the Hateful Spirit?