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 Shadows of Solitude

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Join date : 2013-02-23

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PostSubject: Shadows of Solitude   Shadows of Solitude I_icon_minitimeThu Mar 07, 2013 1:09 pm

Shadows Of Solitude

As the sun is doused into a foggy lake and the night frost takes its place on the grass, the last hint of light reaches the sturdy oak logs of a northern cottage. Rays of the dusk time sun reach past a dusty window and rest upon the cotton sleeves of a somber, gray haired man lounging on a wooden stool lost in his brass pipe"Three years ago, it has been three years since i buried the last of my kin" said the old man.He lounged on a rickety stool, in a dusty, faintly lit cabin room.After taking another puff,he whistles sharply for his animal companion.A few ,moments pass to no response and the whistling, sounds twice more,carrying with chilling reverberance through the unshifting breeze.Silent like stone was he till the man then adjusted on his stool to stare out the window with an empty gaze.Two more hours did pass and when silence was broken the man rose with haste and fear in his eyes.

The glass cracked from the center with no warning,and no apparent reason. The icy blades of grass began crunching under the feet of one unknown,one uninvited. Slowly,the man approached the cabin door, barefoot and startled; his pipe still clutched in his left hand. He reaches for the fine finished handle and presses slowly till the lock clicks loose opening the door ever so slowly he looks left, then right then straight once more,The cool wind fills his lungs and a calmness takes the man,allowing him to re-gain his bearings and attempt to let logic rectify his fears. He shuts the door and turns around,walking to the kitchen,gets to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of beer,closes the fridge and retrieves an opener from the drawer,he tosses the opener onto the counter callously along with the cap. Then returns to a settled ranch style couch in the living room,out of the corner of his eyes he sees the dog sitting at the far end of the couch; looking suspisciously,"damn old age" he scoffs.

An old radio powers up to nothing but static,the truth is it is merely a souvenir and there is no electric to be had for miles. The radio does not phase him,a banging is heard from the cellar which is quickly investigated,he runs outside leaving the door unhinged and pulls open the rusty cellar doors, looking back to the lake,glinting with moonlight.Urgency demands his attention. taking two steps of five cautiously a growling echos from the dank belly of the home.The man calls out "Henry! is that you henry? Get on out here boy!" three more steps and a swift walk to the corner of the cellar the man pulls out a book of matches to ignite an old green oil lantern,he tucks the matchbook back into his flannel vest pocket,picking up the lantern beginning to search the basement for henry a yelping echoes from the far end of the room provoking his interest and testing his nerves.Fear for henry's safety hastens him to the far corner lantern swinging in hand splashing through the flooded center to find nothing but dust,feirce barking sounds from the cellar door drew him in further and sweat glistened his brow,

"Perhaps my imagination has bettered me"he muttered softly..in anxious resign he retreayed from the cellar shaking off his nerves...he pauses allowing fresh night air to fill his senses.in the distance a shadow approaches,faint and loftly in figure, holding a lantern that seemingly hovered in n front of the ominous figure now striding with graceful steps with no sound underfoot. The old man was petrified and shaking as the phantom-esque nightmare rushed to him..Senses fail him and his eyes were most distorted in the grip of an invisible force,cringing and spasming in the ethereal claws of this creature,screaming like a rabbit in the teeth of a wolf...its grip held him to the cold ground...the creature glided a tendrill of shadow from the mans brow,over the mans wrinkled neck...he was immobile and silent in a dark trance...then close the phantom came to his face,the creatures own semblance of a face was two eerie emerald like eyes. The spectre spared no mercy after whispering, in a raspy,high pitched voice "they wait for you...you are not first...but they are soon to find them.."

in a flash the scene ended and the man awoke behind the cabin the sun now rising his lantern scarce of oil, now in shock and confusion...all seemed calm...and the man drew his breath and retreated inside...;what was this?nightmare,pure delusion. He fell to rest on his creaky cot sweat dripping from his brow and waited for sleep to take him..Though there were other motives about... As the man drifted into dreams the creature watched him through the night,jowels drooling and hunger growing....an elongated tendrill of darkness wrapped round the dozing mans neck and with a twist most swift snaped his neck,then fell upon the corpse in a gaseous form seeping into the still hott flesh..infecting his corpse and reanimating him;The now moving cadaver radiated with a pulsing darkness, stumbling to the kitchen..what remained of the man could not be known,this pragmatic entiy controlled the body...a mirror seized its attention and it was most offended and destroyed the mirror by fist...the walking corpse then went to the garage out the back door and looked around slowly,intentions unknown. the entity grabbed a shovel and began to dig a shallow grave in the cold soild dirt behind the cottage and gathered gallon cans of gasoline setting them nearby,the entity then brought a can of gas to its mouth and guzzled the gallon,with no disgust,still in posession of the old mans body...then reached for a blow torch and layed down in the wet,shallow grave on this evening no others around; Lit the torch and forced the flames down his throat incinerating the cadaver in seconds...The heavy rains to come and lake nearby flooded the grave and it was never found...for generations to come this would never be known...wrapped in darkness and lost in solitude...

chapter two

Thirty years later,the isolated cabin lay in ruin,rotting timbers had fallen, vines had overgown the walls.
Undisturbed it was till one fateful day a photographer by the name of --- found inspiration in it's decrepid beauty.
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