A pulsing white light manifested in the skies above the furthest edges of Trentford's suburbs - not far from Croxley Moor or the nearby government facility - early last night. Needless to say, a mysterious and unexpected disappearance - of someone last seen walking across the moor during the early evening - was reported in the local newspaper this morning.
In Horsingdon and its surrounding environs, instances such as these are now anticipated as a matter of course: especially in the aftermath of some seemingly-praeternatural event - in response to which locals will wholheartedly support the claims of local authorities that they intend to pursue every possible avenue of investigation in resolving these missing-person cases.
But nobody really believes it.
Those taken or consumed by the mysteries of Horsingdon rarely find themselves returned safely to hearth and kin: for it is a truth universally acknowledged by residents of the region that such unfortunates are lost forever - cast adrift eternally within those nameless zones and indeciphersble topographies which perpetually gnaw and grind against the ever-thinning edges of that which we mistake for the totality of the real.