Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Bleakman's Bog Pt. 3


Alright I hope you are ready here comes the most exciting installment yet. I had a good time writing it, but I will be honest there has been little to no editing. As a note Dennis is now referring to ghost voice as the hag. I changed this after going into some editing. Sorry for any confusion.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 starts now...

In an instant it was light again. Had he been out for days or hours, Dennis did not know. Such thoughts were meaningless, he was still trapped, just looking at the witch in her rocking chair. She looked weaker somehow. Yet still she chatted with herself in those two strange voices.
“I want to eat his eyes!” the shrill hag voice whined.
“I know, I know but he is not yet ready. We must make both the body and the soul ready or else he will not nourish us.” explained the foreign voice. Who seemed to be the leader.
The more Dennis heard them talk the more he was convinced that the hag was more an insane person than anything else.
“Duncan is coming home soon?” asked the hag.
He wondered who she was.
“Duncan will never return he hates and despises you for what you did.” answered the foreign voice.
Could she be Anne, Duncan's dead wife. Duncan had always said she fell into the bog.
“Anne, is that you?” Dennis hardly believed it was her, but still he asked.
“That name, I remember it. My Duncan called me that in my life. But Anne I am no longer.” the hag replied her withered finger going to the silver pendent that hung from her neck.
“Did Duncan give you that pendent? What is it of?” Dennis was hoping to petition the woman he once knew.
“SHE WILL NOT CHOOSE YOU!” the foreign voice shrieked.
The witch jumped to her feet. Her nails grew longer and claw like. Her body started to jerk and shift. Muscles tightened and grew. Then she was on him. Grown to nearly twice her normal size. Her eyes were glowing with a red light. Her hands clenched around his neck talon like nails biting into his neck.
“Perhaps we will have a bite to eat.” the foreign voice growled.
Her mouth opened and the metal shards shone in the fire light. She pit down and ripped. He felt the wetness of his blood flow down his neck as she tore his ear off. It began to ring almost instantly.
“Like I thought your strength is still too strong. This will be a poor meal.” the foreign voice shrilly mumbled almost to herself.
Chewing she slurped up the remaining with her tongue. And then her size shrank again and she looked even weaker.
“Anne I see that your daughter, Hanna, is still close to your heart. Did you kill her? Is that why Duncan cannot forgive you?” He spit the words out with disgust.


Duncan was riding out of town. No one tried to stop him. They saw the direction he was riding. Many must assume he was simply ready to die. But he knew his goal. He only hoped that the spirit of the Bleakman's Bog would allow him passage. His horse shied as the mists enveloped them. It had grown now most of the town was taken. Perhaps he was already too late. He heard screams behind him. The mists started to shift violently. It was then that he saw the standing shadow. The one that had crippled him. It was carrying something. It was fast. He kicked his spurs deep into his horse's thighs and rode after it. He would not let it get away.

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