Nightside

Taylor nodded, adjusted his trench coat, and led her into the Street of Gods. They passed , the Punk God of the Straight Edge, who stood guard over a doorway to a dimension made of broken glass.

They entered a club where the music was made of captured screams and the drinks were bottled emotions. In a corner sat a Collector, a creature with too many fingers and eyes like dying stars. He held a small, glowing jar. Nightside

"I feel nothing but the gray," she whispered. "The Nightside has finally swallowed my light." Taylor nodded, adjusted his trench coat, and led

The Collector hissed, "In this place, finders are keepers, Taylor." In a corner sat a Collector, a creature

"Not when I'm the one doing the finding," Taylor replied. He reached out, and for a moment, the shadows themselves seemed to bow to him.

"Remember," Taylor said as he walked back into the darkness. "Even in a place where it's always night, you carry your own dawn." Review – Tales from the Nightside by Simon R. Green