Harvest, Oklahoma

The Grave-Keeper weaves in and out of a dense crowd. They like it here, in what the locals call an “Expo Hall” — they don’t have to obscure their face here, as the locals seem to encourage a fashion that doesn’t make them appear out of place. “Hi there!

A mangy, black dog rummages through the dumpsters behind Oz’s Diner. The moon’s light is obscured by dark clouds. The dog knows he doesn’t belong here, but he can’t help falling into mischief with ample mischief to be found. He doesn’t like hurting people, but

Jeb browses the aisles of Harvest’s Blockbuster. Section: Historical. “Bridge on the River Kwai?” he mumbles to himself. “No,” he paces back down the aisle, “something more modern… Gladiator?” Russell Crowe’s shouting face beckons on the DVD box. “Yeah.” Lost in his own thoughts, Jeb snaps to at

The small town of Harvest, Okla. is abuzz with arguments and assertions about the nature of a strange power pole that has appeared downtown. We’ve likely already offended half our readership by claiming the pole appeared rather than having already existed, but we stand by our impeccable investigative journalism.

We now turn our attention to western Oklahoma, to the small town of Harvest. Something catches my senses… a storm is rolling in. An intruder approaches. Something important is about to happen. Let’s hold here for a moment and see what transpires… We are thrilled to officially announce The

The setting sun glints through the windows of the Dino Station. The door opens. A rush of sound and air sweeps in — behind the counter, Claire Crowley senses a coming storm. Harvey Jones, a regular, stands slack-jawed in front of her. Something had happened. Something was wrong.

A small bell affixed above the door clinks as the Grave-Keeper takes their first step into Oz’s Diner. It’s late, and the establishment is sparsely populated. The Grave-Keeper is disguised, their hood pulled up over their head; no need to worry about the humans seeing their true face.

Joni Evers curls her feet up to balance on the wooden seat of an old metal stool. She leans forward, resting her elbows on the workbench and scribbles numbers into a spreadsheet detailing parts, order numbers, and invoices. The jangle of the Auto Shop’s bell disrupts Joni’s emerging

“Joni,” a voice from nowhere said. Shatter! All of Oz’s Diner turned and gawked. Simon rushed over and asked Joni if she was okay. Joni looked down at the broken shards and coffee splayed across the floor. The voice spoke again: “I’m coming to meet you next.”

The Skull Man had not come within less than twenty yards from Joni that night, but the vivid memory of her fascination and dread remained potent. Joni couldn’t believe that Edith had faced the man down, even if it had been with the help of that peculiar llama.

A nocturnal terror locals have started calling “The Padfoot” made another appearance last night in Harvest, Okla., according to eyewitnesses. Sally Gains, proprietor of Wanderstorm, a beloved local bookstore, described her encounter with the alleged creature: “At first I didn’t know what it was. Looked like a tumbleweed rolling

Joni winces when the hot, bitter coffee touches her tongue. Simon asks how the coffee is. Joni raises her mug and feigns a smile. When Simon looks away, her facade evaporates. She continues reading the day’s issue of The Inquirer and Reflection. She still couldn’t believe what Edith

Edith Boyle wrestles with the shades of her past during what will become known as the "Llama Incident" in Harvest, Oklahoma.