"ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴜʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴏᴜʟ."
Tastrim is a town of God, a close-knit community isolated within a forest-clad valley. When winter comes and the pass is filled with snow, folk light their fires, lock their...
"You that have felt his fiery darts, can subscribe to the truth of this, and by fatal experience can tell, how often he has bid you, "curse God and die," and darted into your thoughts a thousand blasphemous suggestions."
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Songs:
Remothered Tormented Fathers Soundtrack - Trailer Song
Resident Evil 7 Soundtrack - 15 Out In The Open
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He appeared as a shadow just beyond the firelight, hooded and cloaked. His stench proceeded him, sickly sweet rotten flesh invading my nostrils and cloying in my throat. I could hear his breath: ragged and punctuated with low, harsh barks. Beneath the hood, his white eyes watched me. His antlers glowed a deathly orange in the firelight, and I could see the stringy, bloody flesh quivering between the points like old spider webs.
"Blood . . . and bone . . ." His voice echoed in my head. It made my knees weak. "Mmm, yes . . . warm flesh . . . a beating heart." There was a long, low growl. It was both ravenous and lustful. "Mmm, sacrifice."
He rushed forth, and I braced myself for pain. I could see his vortex-like mouth with its endless teeth beneath the folds of his ragged covering and felt certain I glimpsed Hell within it. In a second he passed over the ring of ashes, and breathlessly I began to mutter an incantation. "Caelum mihi corona tua animae-"
He stopped abruptly, a mere six feet from me. The incantation died in my throat as I found myself tipping my head back to look up at him. Long strands of thick saliva clung to the edges of his shroud. His bones clicked and his breathing stilled. He had heard me.
"What is your muttering, little witch?" His voice filled my head. I cringed and grit my teeth. His head slowly turned, his white eyes absorbing the scene: the young saplings hanging from the trees covered in smoldering twine, the ashes on the ground, the ring of blood around me. If he'd had eyelids, they would have narrowed. Instead, I felt his suspicion like needles prickling across my scalp.
"What are these baubles?" he growled. He sniffed harshly at the air. "What is that stench? Burnt things and earthen water . . ." His eyes fell upon the small pot with what was left of the Cauldron's Cap brew within it. When he looked at me again, the air seemed to pulse. His voice, when it came, was a hiss filled with malice.
