Black crows speak in Jordemain Wood
Jordemain Wood, Jordemain Wood
Black crows speak in Jordemain Wood
Don’t dare listen
From my story, Doggem
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the trunk of the Seize Tree is said to be furred with human skin, the remains of those offered as sacrifice to the beast below - a practice of the past which has thankfully died out …well, certainly become far less common
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veiled in the shadow of centuries, theirs is an order that refuses to fade - the Sisters of Jordemain persist, folklore in the flesh ... and they serve something unspeakable
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Sammy 'the butcher' Rafferty has kissed his football days goodbye - but Burntbridge Palmers, the club that won’t die, could be just the place for a man who still has a gleam in his eye ...after all, they’re both ghosts that won’t go away
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Those with any sense avoid Wydmich, the ghost village on the periphery of Jordemain Wood, particularly at certain times of year - it's a special place for the wretched widows, where they meet each other and ...other things
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Realities meet
In those dark dreadful tunnels
Underneath their feet
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Ever notice how some places don’t feel right? The vaguely suspicious demeanour of the locals. The pewtered quality of light. The old and indefinably alien smell that blows on the breeze ...Bledbrooke is one of those places.
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in the earth so deep
a terrible entity
wakes from ageless sleep
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gain their confidence and locals will tell you that the dead sometimes come back in this neck of the woods - and you don't want to be around when they do because the dead come back different ...and not in a good way
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punk became incredibly popular with the town's disaffected youth in the late 70s - a popularity which disappeared overnight when the Asylum Club burned down during a Scum Boil gig ...they never did identify all of the bodies
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the flowers are rather pretty and traditionally used in a number of local festivals - but this obscure plant has put many a poor soul in the ground ...the distillation of Markham root is deadly when prepared in the right way
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sensible folk steer clear of the Esolt River when the misting starts to rise and shiver the land - more often than not, Scared Mary rises with it and looks for hands to hold ...and she's loathe to let go once she has a grip
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Mumbler's Field is infamous for its cyclonic manifestations - you don't to be in the vicinity when one those demonic beauties is kicking off ...or for a few days afterwards until the dust and devilment has settled
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Ternament Roundly, the town's historic toy factory, struggled after investing so much cash into the Night Mice concept - those cuddly little fellas never really caught on ...the rumours of death and disappearance didn't help
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Some say old man Cabott's dog is ghost-mongering gone mad - some that it's real and can stand and speak like a man, others that it's shifting between realities and silent ...they all agree you don't want to find out for definite
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One of the taller tales told in the Greedy Eel public house after a pint or three - Skell McGee is said to steal the souls of the unsuspecting and keep them under his hat ...where they suffer for his amusement
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Down deep in the ground
Ancient and unknowable
Waiting to be found
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the Esolt River rarely freezes even when temperatures plummet - if pressed, locals will tell you there are things in that water which keep it warmer than any river should be in the depths of winter ...bad things
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some will tell you there's magic in Esolt Wood - spots where the season stalls, snow on the ground then suddenly autumn beneath your feet and twisting in the trees overhead ...others will agree and mutter that it's dark and dangerous magic
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