Spirit-Krakens.

Here's an excerpt of a short story written by our very own Stephen Polcyn:

    I could hear a strange wailing sound coming from the next room when I wiggled my way through the window, foolishly left open by one of the entitled little gargoyle spawn of the house’s owner. I had been eyeing the house as a potential target for a while, as despite the kids’ uncultured and frankly obnoxious ways, their parents were well-placed in a major corporation. Needless to say, they had accumulated quite a bit of wealth over the years, and I, being a man of high principle, needed to redistribute that hoard a bit. I’d taken the past few weeks to scout out the premises, and figured out where the cash and gold was kept with the help of my trusty pair of hunting binoculars. It never failed to amuse me to see my future quarry, the animals they were, feeding from the corporate trough, through that pair of optics

    Finally, I got my body over the window sill, and slithered down onto the car-decorated rug. No doubt this was the male brat’s room. As I stood up, I realized I could still hear the wailing through the wall, and it was beginning to rattle my nerves. It was shrill and had a distinct note of despair in it, not unlike those movie scenes when the character raises their face to the sky and cries out against some great tragedy that has befallen them. This wasn’t the first time I hadn’t been the only one home while working though; it just meant I had to be a bit more careful if I wanted to avoid wasting my clever chemical concoctions. Figuring out those brews was about the only thing useful my chemistry degree ever got me - it certainly never convinced someone to hire me. The wailing continued unabated though, with no drop in intensity. It was really becoming quite irritating, and I knew my ears would be ringing for hours afterwards with echoes of its piercing tone. More importantly though, it was ruining my concentration. I could hardly focus on my route to the safe when my brain was too busy trying to filter out that horrible screech, so I was really left with no other option - eliminate the creator of the sound. While there were many options to choose from to effect an elimination, I always started with non-lethal. This was to be a short snatch anyway, so it was unlikely she would wake before I had wiggled back out the window. I padded softly across the plush carpet to the door frame, and selected a small, greenish glass orb from my inside coat pocket, and weighed it in my hand. Then I spun around the door frame into the hall, hefted the sphere, began to bring my arm forward, and...

    ...froze.

It's a little bit confusing, a little weird, a little crazy. In the words of the story's immortal author, "they have spirit-krakens." Needless to say, it gets intense.

If you want to read the entire story, its uploaded here.