Nightmares

The Story: (The Author - Dark Bones) In the heart of London, nestled within the eerie Highgate Cemetery, a monstrous creature met its unexpected fate. As the moon cast its silver light upon the ancient tombstones, the creature found itself ensnared in a treacherous trap, buried alive within the cold earth. But instead of succumbing to the clutches of death, the creature's essence was thrust into a haunting nightmare, a realm of darkness and despair. Within this haunting dreamscape, the creature's consciousness expanded, and it discovered an extraordinary ability - the power to command the restless souls of the undead......

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Author - LORDT Page 1 On the rain-soaked cobbles of another dull day, a hesitant fog masks a man upon the road. The weight of many years upon his shoulders and the quivering knees of a steed gone too far. He would all but fall from his horse, and, in turn, his horse would all but drop to its knees. Neither would rise again, but there was little room for introspection, for they were closing in, as do all such things who mark the scent of desperation… Page 2 A ruined city... A familiar city. Though they all seem alike......

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The Story: (The Author - LORDT) I’m not sure what I will miss most; perhaps the deepening greens of the old forest, the broken branches and fragrant pine, the rich moulder of long-hidden earth, revealed by the ruin of a final frost. Perhaps the withdrawal of old magic upon barren fields, where glistening afterthought lingers like fine wine, and shocking embers of late evening fire win through like autumn twilight. Low-borne clouds move endlessly across skies of muted grey, here closer to black, there barely a moment upon on the wind, as darkness closes in… Night’s kiss, Day’s riposte. Or......

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The Story: (The Author - LORDT) The Ruined Plateaux, home to a carpet of broken bones fashioned from the bold desires of men gone wrong. Even carrion shun the place, for though empty of life, there is restless motion… The battered remnants of a castle gone to rot play host to specters and phantasms beyond reckoning, and among them, one grows bolder still. Old parchments litter an already obscured floor, such scrawling as to warp the soul of even the most stoic of sage. Words of discord, of shape and texture. Fabricated by ancient minds, wrought by ancient hands. Under......

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