The Little People

Introduction

A horror story, “The Little People” (originally untitled) was first published in 1970. A page was missing from the original manuscript, and someone at COVEN 13, likely Gerald W. Page or Arthur H. Landis, inserted additional material to fill the gap without acknowledging it. This altered version became the standard published text. The Wandering Star book Bran Mak Morn: The Last King later restored the original version, removing the unauthorized edits and including a copy of the original typescript.

“The Little People” is a horror story that draws upon ancient legends of pre-Celtic inhabitants of Britain—a forgotten race that lurks beneath the land, waiting for moments of weakness to strike. Joan’s modern skepticism contrasts with the narrator’s ancestral memory, which ultimately proves correct. The story suggests that some ancient forces still linger, whether in the form of forgotten horrors or unseen guardians who still watch over their people.

Summary

The story begins with the unnamed narrator and his sister Joan, two Americans visiting the West Country of England. Joan, a modern and skeptical young woman, dismisses supernatural tales as nonsense, scoffing at the book she was reading—Arthur Machen’s The Shining Pyramid. The narrator attempts to explain that legends often have a basis in historical fact. He describes the “Little People” as the remnants of a prehistoric race—the pre-Celtic Picts, a dark-haired, small-statured people who once inhabited Britain before being conquered by invading Celts and later driven into hiding. Myths claim that these ancient inhabitants withdrew into the hills and caves, only emerging at night to commit acts of murder, arson, and child-stealing.

Joan remains unconvinced, dismissing such stories as superstition. The conversation takes a turn when the narrator carelessly challenges her, suggesting she would not dare spend the night alone in a nearby ancient stone ruin. To his dismay, Joan takes his words as a challenge and declares that she will do exactly that. He attempts to dissuade her, warning that wandering alone at night is dangerous—not because of supernatural threats, but because of more mundane dangers, such as criminals. Joan, headstrong and rebellious, refuses to listen. Though she pretends to back down, the narrator is suspicious of her sudden compliance.

Later that night, unable to sleep, the narrator gazes out his window at the grim moors, which appear stark and foreboding under the moonlight. In the distance, he sees the silhouetted ruins of the stone monument, a remnant of some forgotten past. The land stirs something deep within him—an ancient unease. Despite the warm summer night, the scenery feels cold and lifeless.

At some point, he drifts into an uneasy sleep, haunted by vague dreams of a white-bearded figure who seems to shake him awake. When he suddenly snaps to consciousness, an ominous sense of dread lingers. Acting on instinct, he rushes to Joan’s room, only to find it empty.

Racing downstairs, he confronts the night clerk, who casually informs him that Joan had left after midnight, saying she was taking a stroll on the moor. Panicked, the narrator dashes outside and runs toward the distant ruins, his pulse pounding with fear. He soon spots Joan ahead of him, walking slowly, seemingly unaware of any danger. Though exhausted, he quickens his pace, driven by an overwhelming sense that something terrible is about to happen.

As he watches, Joan suddenly stops and looks around in confusion. Then, without warning, she screams in terror. Though the narrator cannot immediately see what has frightened her, a dark horde of figures emerges from the shadows of the moor.

The “Little People”—short, hunched, grotesque figures with gnarled limbs and snake-like eyes—have surrounded her. Their faces are inhuman, their hands clutching flint daggers. The creatures cut off her escape and begin advancing toward her. Acting on instinct, she flees toward the ruins, her only hope of protection.

The narrator charges toward the horde, his rage overcoming any fear. He has no weapons, but he does not care. As he closes in, he is filled with a strange recognition—as if this conflict has happened before, countless times throughout history. His ancestral memory awakens, and he realizes that his Celtic forebears once fought these same beings in ages past.

When he reaches the creatures barring his path, he attacks them with his bare hands. His blows crush bone and break skulls, sending the creatures scattering. A flint dagger stabs into his thigh, but he does not falter. With primal fury, he kills four of them, forcing the rest to retreat.

Ignoring his wound, he resumes his desperate pursuit of Joan. She has reached the ancient stone ruins, but the horde of creatures is closing in around her. Exhausted, she collapses against a towering monolithic column, as if some buried instinct has drawn her to seek refuge there.

The narrator screams, knowing he cannot reach her in time. He sees the Little People surrounding her, their hands reaching for her with malevolent intent. He does not know what ritualistic horror they intend, but he can feel the echoes of ancient sacrifices, the memories of long-forgotten rites of blood and darkness.

In a final act of despair, he lets out a primal scream—a cry so ancient and filled with raw power that it reverberates through time itself.

Then, suddenly—a figure appears beside Joan.

A tall, white-bearded man clad in long robes stands between her and the encroaching horrors. The narrator recognizes him at once—it is the same druidic figure from his dream. There is no gradual materialization—one moment he is not there, and the next, he simply exists. His noble features are illuminated in the moonlight, and his eyes burn with ancient power.

Raising one hand in a commanding gesture, the druid banishes the creatures. The Little People recoil in terror, breaking formation and fleeing into the darkness. In an instant, they are gone, vanishing into the night.

The narrator collapses beside his unconscious sister. As he gathers her into his arms, he looks up one final time at the mysterious druid. The ancient figure gazes down upon them, his expression unreadable, and then—just as suddenly as he appeared—he vanishes. The moor is silent once more.

The ancient power that protected the Celts has awakened once again—if only for a moment.

Characters

  • Unnamed Narrator – A young man of Celtic descent, visiting England with his sister Joan. His instincts and ancestral memory help him recognize the danger posed by the “Little People.”
  • Joan – The narrator’s skeptical and strong-willed sister. She dismisses legends and superstition but is later pursued by the “Little People” when she ventures onto the moors at night.
  • The Little People – A primitive and malevolent race of **dwarfish, ancient beings** who once ruled the land before the Celts arrived. They are described as having **gnarled limbs, beady eyes, and flint weapons**.
  • The White-Bearded Druid – A **mystical figure** who appears suddenly to protect Joan from the “Little People.” He is seemingly a guardian spirit of the Celts, answering the narrator’s desperate cry for help.
  • Night Clerk – The hotel staff member who unknowingly allows Joan to leave after midnight, believing she is simply taking a harmless stroll.

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