The only place he could think to hide it was the old church out in the countryside.
It mustn't see daylight, not after what it did to the village.
He'd never seen so much pus in one place and he served in the last war!
Maybe the retired vicar could spare a blessing for the wretched thing?
After all, it will be in his former place of work.
Lucky they closed the old place down really, he didn't want to thank of anything living
going near this or digging it up though it would only be a matter of time before rumour
Spread about it.
The former vicar lived in the East Vale Retirement Hall about a mile away from the wreck
of a village and no doubt he would have already heard about the devastation.
But where to leave the thing while he went in to speak to the old man?
He couldn't just leave it chained up, not with all the fuss it was making.
God forbid he even entertain the thought of taking it in!
He supposed drawing a ring of salt might work, his grandmother said something about salt.
The closest salt he had was for de-icing his driveway, it'd have to do.
With the ring set up he walked into the retirement home, confident that the thing was trapped.
The staff let him see the vicar right away, there was no reason for them not to.
He was sitting by a window in his room one floor up, looking out at the thing.
How can he be so composed while it stared up at him so fixedly?
"My child, what have you brought here." He asked in a trembling voice.
In all honesty you had no idea what it was, only knew it was dangerous and evil.
He wasn't satisfied with this answer, didn't believe it was as bad as you said.
"Why, this poor creature used to be Mr Brakethorpe. What malice has befallen him?"
Again, you had no idea, it just turned up in Brakethorpe's house and it went downhill from there.
The old vicar turned away from the window to regard you with a cool stare as he calmly said,
"A possession so severe is beyond help. If he can be further contained in iron we may be able to spare his suffering and save what is left of his soul, if anything."
So he thought the thing was some kind of demonic possession then, did salt help with those?
The crash from downstairs suggested not.
The screams that followed stopped sounding human after a few seconds.
Quickly peering over the vicar's shoulder you saw your former salt ring had been changed to say:
'Wait fOr me'
After several tense minutes you heard what sounded like a large crowd walking towards their room.
There was no place to hide, no chance of the vicar surviving a drop out of the window.
They were trapped like rats.
The vicar began to murmur prayers, as if the unseen forces he favoured would save them.
Deciding it was better to go out fighting than to die, he grabbed the large metal crucifix from the bedside wall.
With his other hand he opened the door.
It mustn't see daylight, not after what it did to the village.
He'd never seen so much pus in one place and he served in the last war!
Maybe the retired vicar could spare a blessing for the wretched thing?
After all, it will be in his former place of work.
Lucky they closed the old place down really, he didn't want to thank of anything living
going near this or digging it up though it would only be a matter of time before rumour
Spread about it.
The former vicar lived in the East Vale Retirement Hall about a mile away from the wreck
of a village and no doubt he would have already heard about the devastation.
But where to leave the thing while he went in to speak to the old man?
He couldn't just leave it chained up, not with all the fuss it was making.
God forbid he even entertain the thought of taking it in!
He supposed drawing a ring of salt might work, his grandmother said something about salt.
The closest salt he had was for de-icing his driveway, it'd have to do.
With the ring set up he walked into the retirement home, confident that the thing was trapped.
The staff let him see the vicar right away, there was no reason for them not to.
He was sitting by a window in his room one floor up, looking out at the thing.
How can he be so composed while it stared up at him so fixedly?
"My child, what have you brought here." He asked in a trembling voice.
In all honesty you had no idea what it was, only knew it was dangerous and evil.
He wasn't satisfied with this answer, didn't believe it was as bad as you said.
"Why, this poor creature used to be Mr Brakethorpe. What malice has befallen him?"
Again, you had no idea, it just turned up in Brakethorpe's house and it went downhill from there.
The old vicar turned away from the window to regard you with a cool stare as he calmly said,
"A possession so severe is beyond help. If he can be further contained in iron we may be able to spare his suffering and save what is left of his soul, if anything."
So he thought the thing was some kind of demonic possession then, did salt help with those?
The crash from downstairs suggested not.
The screams that followed stopped sounding human after a few seconds.
Quickly peering over the vicar's shoulder you saw your former salt ring had been changed to say:
'Wait fOr me'
After several tense minutes you heard what sounded like a large crowd walking towards their room.
There was no place to hide, no chance of the vicar surviving a drop out of the window.
They were trapped like rats.
The vicar began to murmur prayers, as if the unseen forces he favoured would save them.
Deciding it was better to go out fighting than to die, he grabbed the large metal crucifix from the bedside wall.
With his other hand he opened the door.
No comments:
Post a Comment