The Wild Hunt


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The Night Hunt

There's a place, where no one knows,
where time stands still, and what isn't is so,
where the beasts and the darkness run hand in hand,
over the hills, through the forests, and through out the land,
they feast on the souls of those who have fled,
and their job isn't done until the last one is dead,
if you hear the low howling or the hounds at your feet,
run hard and run fast or you'll surely end up their meat,
beware of the lady who runs but doesn't growl,
she'll find you in dreams, and so starts the deadly prowl.

By Gideon Monroe

(An original character from The Wild Hunt)


I see ghosts.......

Except my ghosts aren’t just floating see-through apparitions. They aren’t drifting clouds of mist, or glowing balls of light. My ghosts are the soundless, walking zombies of the dearly departed. They are the rotting corpses of the dead.

I am crazy........

I have never pretended to be anything else. I know that seeing the dead isn't something sane people do. No. I am fully aware of my own psychosis. Too bad knowing and accepting isn't a cure.


Something else seems to be happening around me. People are dying, people I know. And whats worse the Sheriff thinks I'm doing it. Even my silent rotting friends can't help me, not without a voice.

I am not a murderer.