Echoes of the Headland
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MatureOngoing7m
Last published Thu, Jun 18, 2026
What began as a joke-a half-drunken dart thrown at a map-brought Sam and his friends to the remote Cornish town of Stormhaven. It was supposed to be a simple holiday: sea air, coastal walks, and a few carefree days away from real life.
Instead, they arrived on the eve of the town's annual three-day festival, a celebration of the most infamous event in Stormhaven's history-the execution of a notorious smuggling gang and the disappearance of their legendary treasure.
Most visitors came for the festivities.
Sam found himself drawn to the stories.
The deeper he dug, the more often one name surfaced: Joseph Williams. Smuggler. Folk hero. Villain. Depending on who was telling the tale, he was all three. Stranger still were the whispers surrounding the Williams family businesses. Every inn, pub, and boarding house connected to the family seemed to carry its own unsettling legend, its own unexplained story passed from one generation to the next.
His friends urged him to let it go. They hadn't travelled all the way to Cornwall to chase local myths.
But Sam couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the stories than superstition.
And then there were the Williams sisters.
Harriet and her older sister, Bronte, seemed to know far more about Stormhaven's past than they were willing to admit. The closer Sam came to uncovering the truth behind Joseph Williams and the lost treasure, the more he began to suspect that some secrets in Stormhaven had never truly been buried.
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"Jesus Christ..." he muttered, swallowing hard. He reached out tentatively, his gloved fingers brushing against the infant's cheek. It was ice-cold. The baby's chest rose and fell faintly, each breath a Herculean effort. Beneath the child, the tarp was damp-not with water, but something metallic-smelling and sticky. Blood? Ramirez's stomach twisted. "Dispatch," he whispered hoarsely into his radio, forcing his voice steady. "Officer Ramirez, 9th and Mercer. I need an ambulance. I found an infant. Abandoned. Possible injury." . . "They found a baby in Gotham," Bruce finally said. "Abandoned in an alley. They ran a DNA test... and it matched you." Dick froze, the world around him suddenly quiet, as if the city itself held its breath. "What?" he said sharply, disbelief washing over him. "That's impossible."
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