My Pact with the Goblin Queen

Brighton, a city on the south coast of England, December

I'm writing this story as a result of a pact I made with a goblin ghoul last night as I was walking home up the hill near Withdean in Brighton. Every part of it is true and exactly how I remember, though the events of last night now seem like they happened in another world. As I look at these words it seems strange that I could be writing them. Who will believe what I have to say? You, Dear Reader, safe in the daylight or under the protective glow of your electric light can have no conception of the horrors that dwell so close to our twenty first century civilisation, just beyond the reach of the shadows. But I must hurry. My life depends on completing this tale before she returns.