The King of Crows

Something is very peculiar at Witching-Wood boarding school. One only needs to observe the perpetual dread worn on the faces of its dead-eyed students. But who could blame them? What with their dreams being haunted by unsettling shared visions, members of the student body vanishing one by one without explanation or even acknowledgement from the strangely oblivious faculty, and hushed murmurs of a single word spoken in the silence of air thick with foulness...‘Zipperhead’