The Street of Hallow´s End
By thealchemyst
I was walking down a dirt path, surrounded on both sides by trees. Cold, dark, naked trees. A dank musty wind blew through the limbs, howling like no other. I was but alone, as no one else would brave the street of Hallow’s End. Snow fell. Not the snow that you know, that of black, gray, evil snow. That of which is seldom seen upon earth. The sky, gray and without sun, sent chills down my spine. The trees seem to grow even larger, surrounding me, to make me more alone that I ever was. For the first time, I see a fork in the path. One leads to a town, Falconhurst. The other, I knew not. Being as I am, I took it. To this day I regret it.
As I walked along the path, it seemed to get colder, colder. Ever colder. A house appeared. Not the normal, homey comfortable house, a large cold and dark victorian home, with eaves and empty balconies. No flowers filled the trellises, instead bleak dark dirt. I knocked once only, and the door opened, no man present. I entered. There was a huge hall, devoid of life and light, but for a single spider and the open door. Centered in the wall there was another. As I approached it opened.
A small anteroom appeared, with a lit hearth, and books lining the walls. It felt more welcoming that what else I had seen of this house, but what would I know? I sat for a second, then got up. As I stood, a man entered through a door that I knew not. The man I did not know. This frightened me, as he was a bleak whitish man. I straightened and looked into his eyes. But what would I see? Only my reflection. He had no pupils. I do not mean that his eyes were all white, but black — reddish. To see this image struck fear in my heart, and I thrust my body away. But he relented and grabbed the flesh of my arm. Suffice to say, I struggled. Alas his grip held true. As I lay tangled in his stone grasp he led me to another chamber. This filled with sconces and a large bowl in the middle. A large, black bowl. He dismissed me, and lay me to the side, as if I were a ragdoll. In a strange language, he muttered, ¨ABLANATHANALBA, SECHE UN DRELLIS, CAVE INIMECIUM!¨And at this rose a strange beast, from the very deepest pits. I lay frightened at the dark beast. It looked at me. Devoid of hope, of life. I knew that there was yet no hope of survival. I did the one thing that any could do. Perhaps, not the right thing. To do so yet would be death. But to not would lead straight to the pits of Traken. So I leapt up. And ran, ran.
Running, running down the halls, through the lounge. Black as night. Around me erupted cries, chanting. Cries of death, of pain. I screamed once, and the area around me disappeared. Faded away, into a bright light. And I stood in a glade, with no grass. And an imprint of a house.
