Highway Man : 3rd person story, with a grunge, fantasy feel:
Shady Burrow : Suspense story about a stranger in a small town.
Same Three:

Highwayman:

A barely audible ring escaped the man’s coat. He pulled a small silver device from an inside pocket. The thing resembled a woman’s compact mirror, only with several buttons and two lights. Still holding it about a foot from his face, he slid his thumb over the surface and a green light came on.

“Hey, are you there?” The soft voice of a young man, radiated from the phone.

The man in black stayed silent for a bit longer than one would expect after answering a call. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Jesus where have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for like two hours now!” The young man seemed frantic.

“Don’t worry I’m heading back to the hotel now. I’ll see you in… twenty minutes.”

“Taggart, hold on wher-” The little green light went dark, and the young man’s voice faded off into the night.

Taggart, the man in black, slid the phone back inside of his coat before returning his attention to his half dead, would be mugger.“Well I was hoping to spend more time together, but it seems as though I’m being missed,” He once again reached into his coat and this time he withdrew a heavily scarred and dirty gun. The once lustrous silver sheen had been coated with grime and brought to a dark muddy gray. “Usually you are testing fate if you let a firearm get this filthy. That is unless you use this kind of gun,” Taggart’s lips pulled open into a wide Cheshire Cat grin as his thumb pulled the hammer until it clicked. “I wanted to let you die slowly, so you could feel the last precious moment and fully appreciate what you were losing, but it seems that this just isn’t your night.” The barrel dropped to aim directly into the muggers left eye. A sudden look of terror flooded the addict’s face he opened his mouth to beg, but only a choked wheeze past his lips. Taggart tensed his finger on the trigger, his smile fell away and he pulled down.

In the silence of an inner city night the single explosion seemed to echo on forever. It only took the Public Judiciary Enforcement forty minutes to respond to complaints. Of course by that time Taggart was back at his hotel, asleep in a recliner. The next day the PJE declared it a drug related execution. And by that time Taggart was in another city.

……

“Taggart, Just hold on for a second,” The young man grabbed their bags and hurried off the train after his friend. “What are we doing here?”

Taggart, without slowing his pace, honestly without even turning, said over his shoulder. “I promised the old hag I would drop by once a year before All Hallows,” He tucked his coat up under his armpit as they walked. “This is her town.”

The young man nearly stumbled at this news. “The Lady Hostile! You’re taking me with you to see the Lady!”

Taggart stopped to look the young man over. He was silent for a moment before a grin split his face. “I had no idea you found the Ladies so exciting.”

“Are you joking? The Ladies are legends on par with the fucking chupacabra,” The young man’s eyes could have illuminated a room, for how bright they were at the moment. “How can you not be excited? Not only have you seen the Ladies, but one of them actually request your presence every Devil’s Night!”

“Well, Hugo I’m sure that she will appreciate your zeal, but you may want to abstain from making joint comments about her and the goat sucker, at least when in her company.” He took a few more steps before crashing onto a bench, why the bench was there was anyone’s guess, but Hugo was too enthralled with the promise of meeting one of the mythical Ladies to be concerned with the oddly stationed seat. Taggart thought about letting Hugo fantasize about his meeting with Lady Hostile, but he brushed it aside and spoke up. “Hugo.”

Hugo recovered from his daze and turned to face the older man. “What?”

“Can I have my bag?”

“Sure, but why all the sudden?” He handed the worn canvas satchel bag to Taggart even before he questioned. Taggart didn’t answer; instead he just opened the bag and began rummaging through it. After a moment he retracted his hand, holding in it his pack of crushed cigarettes. He was about halfway through his second cigarette when he stood up and began walking again.

“Damn it,” Hugo had been standing off surveying a decrepit fountain when he noticed Taggart. “Where are you going?”

“The Lady won’t see us until nightfall. You go get a hotel room; I'm going to get a drink.” The entire time he spoke he continued on down the desolate gray street. In most towns you would not be able to hear someone such a distance away, but this town was different other than the workers at the train station and few silhouettes crouching behind dirty windows the place seemed abandoned.

“Wait, I’ll go with you.” Hugo jogged after Taggart grabbing his things off the lonely bench as he passed. Taggart stopped to wait up for him. Hugo felt an overwhelming sense of giddiness. Since they had met Hugo had felt more like an unwanted tagalong, than an actual traveling companion. Mostly because everywhere they went Taggart seemed to vanish into thin air shortly after unpacking. Taggart finished his cigarette and flicked the remains into a nearby rusted trashcan. He turned back to Hugo and his broken lips pulled taut into another grin.

“Hugo, you know you’re not old enough to drink.”

Hugo could feel the drop in his face.

What the fuck, why do you care about upholding that law?

“Are you serious? How the fuck does that make any sense?” He could feel his face flushing. “Why do you always leave me behind?”

“Hugo, don’t argue with me. Not until you’re at least twenty,” Taggart’s smile never faltered, though his tone was not the most congenial. “If you go right and then take the first street on the left it will take you to a Discount Inn. I’ll meet you there later.” He swiftly turned and left. He gave a wave behind him as he disappeared down the street.

“Damn it…”