The village had a name long ago, but nobody
remembers it now. Nobody wants to. People have learned to give it a wide
berth. Strange things happen there… dark and horrible things. It was
once an ordinary farming town, where the people worked their land and
went about their business. They didn’t prosper, but they didn’t starve.
Time passed on and nothing much ever changed until one fateful harvest
season. The summer had been hot and dry, and the storms had come late,
lasting well into autumn. The harvest was small, and the people were
dreading the stark winter to come.
One late October night a stranger wandered into
the town. He was tall—hooded and cloaked against the rain. His staff
clacked upon the cobbled road as he paced slowly toward the only food
and lodging the small town had to offer. A cold chill followed him,
curling slyly down the front lanes of the homes along his path. It
coiled around the feet of the residents who were still out on that rainy
night, raising the hair on the backs of their necks, and giving them a
sudden urge to attend to tasks indoors. More than one uneasy hand pulled
aside a curtain to get a glimpse of the oddly unsettling visitor, but no
one ventured back out to ask his business. The cold outsider continued
along toward the local inn, either unaware or uninterested in the effect
his presence had on the inhabitants.
He only asked for a meal, but his voice had an unearthly timbre that
sent a chill down the innkeepers spine. Perhaps if the man had never
looked into the visitor's face and had just done as he requested, what
happened next might have been avoided. There's no way to know. The man
glanced up at his customer, and the answer on his lips simply froze
there. The stranger's visage was deeply shadowed, but nothing could veil
the eyes that smoldered from the depths of his hood. They met the
innkeeper's startled look with a baleful, unnatural light. The vile gaze
held the man, who could glimpse no familiar humanity in it. He saw only
a mad, soulless void that threatened to consume him. Horrified, he
staggered backwards against the bar in a rattle of glassware. Startled
customers looked up from their drinks to see what was going on.
In a rural town, strangers are looked upon with suspicion. Although they
didn't know what had happened, the tavern patrons could see their fellow
townsman's discomfiture and didn't hesitate to move to his defense.
There was no need to ask what the problem was. It was clear to them that
the odd stranger wasn't welcome, and they undertook to remove him from
the premises. He was strong—stronger than he looked—but outnumbered, he
was soon overpowered and pushed toward the door. It was during that
scuffle that his cloak fell open to reveal strange artifacts lashed to
his belt. Some said they glimpsed shrunken heads, others swore they saw
human teeth and bones. Somebody pulled the hood from his head…
No one can describe what they saw then. It's probably for the best—some
things are better left unknown in a sane world. Whatever they beheld, it
was far from human, and the mob went from mere unease to a horrified
frenzy. They dragged the creature to the meeting stone in the middle of
the village to hang him, then and there. Perhaps it should have occurred
to them that earthly methods of execution might do no harm to the thing
they had captured, but rational thought had fled. They threw the noose
over his head, looped it to the hangman’s tree, and kicked the barrel
out from underneath him. Then a hush swept over the watching
townspeople, and a nauseating terror engulfed them. The stranger had not
fallen. He simply stood on thin air like it was as solid as the stone
beneath him. At that moment, the storm that had been threatening broke
in earnest overhead, as if the skies couldn’t bear to witness such an
unnatural sight.
The stranger was seen to smile, and it became apparent to everyone
watching that he had never been overpowered by the frail mortal
townsfolk. His mad grin froze the souls of the unfortunate people that
had thought to put an end to him, and all saw that there was more power
being brought to bear than any of them could fathom. The creature's
horrible eyes sparked, mirroring the lightning that tore the sky above
him, and his unearthly voice echoed into the night as he shouted words
in a language not of this earth. With a deafening crack, lightning
struck the limb above him, knifed downward through his body, and slammed
into the stone below. And in that moment he vanished. The terrible storm
ceased, as if it had never been, leaving the dazed villagers to stare at
the place where the stranger had stood. All that was left was an empty
noose swinging gently in the dying breeze… and burned into the stone
below were two perfect, cloven hoof prints.
The villagers soon discovered the consequences of being inhospitable to
a demon. Strange things emerged from the woods after that night. The
dead no longer slept quietly in their graves. Creatures that had never
before been seen became all too common. Some say that even the trees
would watch travelers, and move with a will of their own. And the
townsfolk… the townsfolk changed. Oh yes, the villagers are there still,
undying and undead. But one can’t exactly call them people, now. And if
all that weren’t enough, the curse attracts more evil to itself. Awful
things find their way there, drawn by the pall that hangs over the place
like a dark cloud.
There’s not much left of the village anymore, except for a few odd
buildings here and there. Most people know to avoid it. Some who wander
in lose their way and just… never leave. Ask the performers in the
little circus that came to town a few years after it happened. They’re
still there. They’ve changed too…
Most of the time the accursed place is quiet enough. Travelers sometimes
go missing if they get too curious. But as All Hallow’s Eve approaches,
even the most foolhardy of souls have learned to stay away. The storms
still come late to the little town. When the leaves turn scarlet, and
the chill evening breeze rattles through the crisp corn sheaves in the
fields, that’s when the demon’s spell gains strength. Then just about
anything can happen... With all the fury of its demon master’s wrath,
the curse overloads the village with the darkest of forces, and no
outsider is safe to venture in.
You can go there if you don’t believe this tale. The path is just beyond
those tall trees. Don’t look at them as you pass by—they don’t like it.
And I’d recommend that you don’t look back…
Good luck…
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