/u/GrantGorewood's posts
My newborn sister’s crying went suddenly silent on that fateful rainy night, and being the good big brother I was I went to check on her.
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I was out late investigating a recent string of crushing deaths in the local national forest when a bellowing laugh from above caught me off guard.
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I held my child close as the terror from the sea tore through our town while unleashing a lethal miasma from its maw.
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Shouts echoed over the autumn rye fields as the search for the youngest Morris boy continued into the evening hours.
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My impromptu nap in the autumn fields was disrupted by a feeling of something tightening around my neck.
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The sound of my feet racing through the night was accompanied by the squealing of that accursed pitch black pig that kept drawing nearer by the moment.
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On my way home the other evening a figure who looked exactly like me except for their horrific burns and disfigured limbs appeared before fading away into the autumn night.
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My brother and I were playing in the corn maze my pa had set up when I heard the distinctive sound of the corn misting machine from somewhere nearby.
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I was at the hill of Tara on Samhain Eve when the unearthly music of a harp brought a wave of drowsiness upon me.
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