The darkness roiled and rolled, pouring down the mountain and over the village. Where it landed, things died. It was the longest night of the year, as such the village had been lit with bonfires, lanterns, luxurious candles. All the light meant to ward off the night, to welcome back the light. Because of this all the denizens of the village were awake, not just the two footed. As a result all the villagers, two or four footed, were party to the terror of the hungry darkness that descended. 

Animals in their barns screamed and then ceased in the most horrible abruptness. The silence of their passing was not long. Soon enough another would join in the unnatural chorus, singing their death with clarity that only added to the terror. Screams, squalls, squeals all filled the night alongside chittering and scratching noises that bypassed the ears and went right to one’s bones. Wet ripping sounds, slurping and deep the deep snapping of bones breaking added to the horrific music. Worst of all were the human screams that joined in, these songs lingered longer than those of the animals though they ended with the same abruptness. 

For a moment, for an eternity the village was encased in darkness as large things thudded against the windows and doors of the sturdily build cottages. Scratching and scrambling filled the chimneys as small things of indeterminate shape and size began to pour down the chimneys, black as the soot that coated the stones, past the flames and into the homes where people gathered. There they swarmed. 

Even as it swallowed the village the darkness kept on roiling and rolling, moving so that just as the leading edge hit the front of the village the part first effected by the darkness was freed from it. The bonfires still burned, the lanterns and candles still flickered and danced. They still sent their light up to welcome back the sun. But the eyes that lay open in horror would not see another day. In a matter of a moment the blackness came and went, rolling down the mountain, dispersing as it went, taking with it all the hungry things it had brought, both large and small. In its wake it left a swath of destruction, a village broken.