| Just before dawn, by an empty shingle beach, sinister figures move through the gloom. Living shadows, they're dressed all in black, their coats made from long rags, their faces obscured by paint. But their eyes burn brightly as they gather in a circle. If some poor insomniac comes walking the dog now – at 5am on a cold, damp morning – they'll get a massive fright. "Hey-ya!" yell eight men and ... |
