“I see aud Cutty has been up tea his dorty tricks again,” grumbled Nelson, the deputy supervisor holding up the severed remains of the rope traces and hitching them. From around him came the concerned grumblings of the workers. This was the third time this week. Luckily –this time– the poor sod who had fallen victim to Cutty’s pranks hadn’t been hurt when the soams holding his tub had snapped… though a lad pushing the tub behind had suffered a concussion in the scramble for safety.

Tension was rising in the colliery as Cutty wasn’t even settling for just the soams anymore. His pranks nowadays were downright malicious, from wedging the doors making it harder for tubs to pass, to tampering with the props. The discontent was getting more open by the day and starting to bubble to the surface. The mine was almost tapped out on coal anyway, and the foremen were even considering closure.

The whistle blew for shift end and Nelson headed home. His work for the day was far from done, though. He slipped into his washhouse where a half-complete scarecrow lay. He wanted them to truly believe in Cutty Soams, meaning they had to truly believe they had seen the monster. He carefully fitted the grotesque wax face in place. He had heard placing a shard of the bones of the Wyrm into a bogle would create a living puppet to serve his will.

“We’ll see soon enough Cutty, then ah’ll fettle em. When I’m supervisor, Mildred will na give Harry a second glance.” Looking down at the creature he had created, he could have sworn –just for a moment– that it winked. But after that, no matter what he did, nothing happened; the bogle remained as lifeless as a rag doll.

Cursing his ill luck, Nelson headed back towards the house, carefully locking the washhouse as he left.

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He heard a noise behind him, and when he turned, he saw Mildred arm-in-arm with Harry. His blood boiling, he turned away and went back into the house, slamming the door behind him. Well, his employers wanted the colliery abandoned so they could buy it out, and his creation wasn’t working. He needed a new plan.

Over the next few weeks Nelson did not sleep well, woken in the dead of night by a screeching laughter. The voice even suggested newer and meaner pranks. To make matters worse Harry was starting to suspect him. He had seen him a few times now inquiring over Cutty’s attacks and Nelson's shifts.

Then one day, opportunity hit. Harry was due to inspect the shaft integrity, and the ropes were right there beside Nelson on his way out. Inside him, Cutty urged, “just yan little cut mi Marra, and ya troubles will be ower, just yan little slip of the knife, yan Nick on the line, the lady will pine, but ye’ll win at the cost of a life.” The laughter hardly stopped these days, and the ropes were right there. Nelson headed home happily; Cutty was right. One little cut had set him on the road to success. Soon Mildred would turn to him for comfort, and he’d be there in her hour of need.

Less than an hour later the bell rang out. There’s been an accident. The families gathering quickly. The whole village showing up to find out what had happened. Nelson showed up too of course, he had to keep up appearances. Something was wrong though.

Mildred was crying, but Harry was the one comforting her. Her father, the Overman, had been the one to use the rope. Two were dead, him and the Supervisor who tried to save him.

From then on the accusatory glares around the village got worse. Foul play was suspected. But there wasn’t enough evidence to prosecute Nelson for his crimes. Instead he was dismissed. When he took bad with the afterdamp, even the doctor hesitated to treat him.

The colliery closed not long after, and due to the scandal the buyout never took place.

Nelson moved out into a shack in the hills. He kept his head down from then on. As for the bogle, he dropped it down an air shaft. Later that year the damp finally claimed him.

Unfortunately for Nelson, as he closed his eyes a familiar voice was heard. “Na Marra, nea rest for ye, the di’el will have his due. Now mi mate, ye’ve met your fate, and the words ah telt ye came true.” Nelson - no, Cutty - opened his eyes once more, looking down at the rotten old pick and bogle's hands. Then he laughed, and laughed, and LAUGHED.