Karl POV:
It all started with a few disappearances. No seeming pattern between each of them. A few became one hundred and people kept their doors locked at night, for fear of whatever force hid in the dark of night stealing people away.

Third person POV:
John Harris was a middle class cop, who worked a variety of cases, but spent most of his time giving out tickets. John had been assigned to investigate a purported drug ring in the north side of Bloomtown. Nervousness creeped through John, if he messed up he might lose his only chance of making detective. John stared at his case file. After countless hours of following leads, he had missed both of his kids birthday parties, and his marital relationship was deteriorating. Finally after many sleep deprived nights he knew where the drug ring hid. Their hideout was in an old factory. John stepped out to his car and let out a long whistle. A growlithe came running and jumped into the side seat of the car. John patted growlithe and checked his holster to see if he had his gun, which without he would probably die.

The car pulled up outside the factory, and John stepped out. He tentatively creeped into the factory. He could see the light of a campfire in the corner, it's flames casting eerie shadows across the room. Muffled voices could be heard and it was clear that a deal was going down. John hid behind a steel girder and listened in on the conversation.
"Whatever killed the boss, it might come back" someone said worriedly
"Relax our gunshot spooked it good, it's probably in springville by now." someone reassured
"I still don't know what your talking about" someone piped up. The crowd groaned
"It's this little girl looking thing with a knife and it killed the boss"
"It killed Big Hoss?!"
"Afraid so"
John was seriously confused. All of a sudden the flame roared with new life and its flames turned a shade of deep purple. A spectral claw reached from the fire and grabbed one of the gangsters. Their screams echoed through the factory as they were incinerated immediately. A little girl stepped out of the fire, John tried to run but no matter how far he ran he stayed still. The girl went through the circle and raised their guns to point at their friends. She stood in the centre and snapped her fingers, having each gangster pull the trigger. Each bullet miraculously missed the girl, burrowing into the heads of the gangsters. They all fell backwards and formed a star shape with their lifeless bodies.  John began to cry as the girl stepped forwards to meet him. He hadn't even said goodbye to his family, and now he would just be another cop missing in action. The girl could sense all of John's insecurities, seeing his memories of his father saying he'll never make detective like all his brothers. She smirked as she lightly touched the back of John's head. John crumpled to the floor and grabbed at his hair, screaming. He was trapped in a maze of his own mind, and the only escape was death.