“So I’m trapped on this island until human-kind forgets about me?” cried Meria. “I’ve been here for fifty years. Surely they can’t still remember me.”

“They’d almost forgotten,” said Lucy. “But your mother, who you murdered for just £12, was a good friend of mine. About the only human, I ever loved. So imagine my delight when I sold my story to a film studio a few weeks back.”

Meria let out a howl as Lucy’s body turned to smoke. As the wind picked up and lifted her off the island, she noted, “I hear there’s going to be a book too.”

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