Virgin snow drifted against the dark stones of the north wall of Peterborough Cathedral. Detective Inspector Elias stood looking up at the stonework on the square Norman tower, seemingly oblivious to the corpse sprawled at his feet. DS Stuttard made subdued conservation with Smith and Peters from the Coroner's Office, as the pair waited patiently for the SOC to release the body. A fine dusting of snow lay over everyone.

     Elias scanned the monuments in the Cathedral grounds, keeping the corpse in his peripheral vision. He could see nothing out of the ordinary; not even the frozen eviscerated body, half-buried in the snow. He was getting used to it now, this being the third such death in as many weeks. And he already knew what the Coroner would say: cause of death - shock due to bloodloss, occasioned by massive trauma to the thoracic cavity. Weapon or weapons unidentified - signature marks indicate some form of ersatz animal claw.

     Stuttard appeared at his elbow; he looked worried. "This is too blatant. I doubt anyone's buying the cover story."

     Elias rocked on his heels. "It almost feels like they're issuing a challenge." He didn't speak again for nearly a minute. "Which they can't hope to meet!"

     He stared at the fog of his breath and wondered what species of anarchy would break loose if the eldritch took openly to the streets. But they were a fading people, spiralling down toward extinction. Why would they risk a conflict, one that could only hasten their ultimate demise?

     Through a covenant forged between the upstart race of man and the waning world of the fey, the eldritch kept to the darker passageways that industrial man had built then promptly forgotten. Every village, town and city had them, created by the piling of one society upon the ruin of the previous; iron over stone, nuclear over steam. Each generation built the world anew, and left gaps to catch the unwanted and the unwary. And in those man-made crevices existed the other inhabitants of the world, those that mankind now failed to see because their very existence upset the status quo that society strove so very hard to maintain. In the Information Age no one believed in fairies or ghosts or demons. Elias pursed his lips. Well maybe they ought to, before terminal complacency set in.

     By agreement they met on neutral ground, a crypt beneath St John the Baptist's with access to the Victorian sewers that ran in a grid under Cathedral Square. Halfway between the darkness and the light.

     When the rituals were finished the eldritch tore away his human guise, to regard the policeman with milk-white eyes. Elias had long-since ceased to react to the inhuman beauty of the older races. Thin, bloodless lips parted across ivory-razor teeth as the eldritch spoke.

     "Rawhead is loose upon your world. And it has a taste for hearts and stomachs." The fey looked almost abashed. "We have tried calling, but it refuses to listen. Your world is so much more attractive than our own."

     Thrust deep into the pockets of his greatcoat, Elias' hands balled into white-knuckled fists. "Why here and not some bigger city?"

     "Rawhead sees only warm bodies; the surroundings are almost irrelevant. Do not think of it as a person, for Rawhead is a nightmare made manifest, the physical reality of a story to frighten children." Melancholy resonated in the musical voice of the fey. "We are alike detective inspector, for we both seek to prevent the slow disintegration of a world we cherish. And in truth, though we wield the judgement of our respective societies, we are both powerless. Please do not think too harshly of Rawhead, for it is the offspring of a dying world and decay is in its nature."

     Elias, recognising the truth in the eldritch's words, just shrugged his shoulders. "Humans are conditioned to operate on that physical reality you spoke of. We lose touch with dreams when our childhood ends."

     The eldritch saw the phantom of sadness that momentarily clouded Elias' face; then the policeman regained his composure. "So how do we kill it?"