The first story in the Black Book of Terrifying Tales
There was an old man called Mortimer, a hermit who distrusted all those who he saw walking through his woodland. He lived in the old, cold woods of Regalia, and lived so far away from the city, the glow and lights from within were only slightly visible from the distance which he watched from. He lived alone for years and years, sitting in his old rocking chair, and reminiscing about the reasons for him being there, in the cold loneliness of the woods.
It was many many years before, and he lived in the city with his wife and children. His children were a naughty sort, constantly getting into scrapes and fights over the littlest things. Bratty could be a word to describe them. In an attempt to calm the youths, and get piece of mind that they would be better to the other children he used to tell them tales of the Pale Man who took children away in their sleep to feed on them if they were naughty. It was a simple myth which an old soldier mate of his told him when he served, and it worked well in turning the kids attitude around quickly.
After a while the kids grew older, and wiser, and begun not paying heed to the story, and this was fine, so he tried other ways in getting them straight, yet as time went on, nothing worked. Until the night. That fateful night. After the birthday of the eldest, whom had just reached age 14 that very day, he set his children to sleep in their room, sharpened his wood-axe for cutting logs for the fire tomorrow, and then snuggled into bed with his wife.
The first thing that awoke him was a scraping along the walls downstairs. Upon hearing this he quickly got up, grabbed his axe, and slipped down the steps quietly as to not awaken anyone. He wandered down the creaky steps to look, searching, and finding nothing. He looked deep in the shadows further and further, even looking around in the boxes and cabinets just in case it were rats or some street cat that had gotten in.
He stayed up a while after that, before hearing the scraping again, up the stairs. He quickly rushed up the stairs this time, not caring about the sounds which might wake his kids, though they did not break their sleep. By the time he was almost at the top he heard the creak of the doorknob to his room opening, and upon looking in he saw his wife was gone, and her shape under the covers no longer there, but for a bloody handprint on the pillow. His eyes widened greatly as he then raced to his children's room. The same sight met his eyes...but this time something was in the window.
He didn't get a good look at the creature that, but whatever it was, it must have gotten the kids. Over the next few days a search was carried out, finding nothing for a week, however Mortimer continued to sense he was being watched as he, and the guards, hunted for his family. He constantly thought he could see an elongated man in the corner of his eye as he wandered, and he kept thinking he could hear the scraping against his door as he slept at night.
Once the week was up, and he found nothing he returned home, going to go and sit on his bed when he found a bouquet of their heads in the doorway, blood dripping down on the floor. That was the day he left the city. He was blamed for the deaths too, so he would die if he did not. It was a miracle that the guards did not find him, but he knew the creature would, most likely, so he brought his axe with him. The years went by and his body withered over time, becoming wrinkled, clammy, and his hair slowly became wiry and white. He now lived alone, and he couldn't trust anyone but those who brought him gifts from town.
He awoke during the night, rain beating down on his hut in the woods, and the door staying open. Did he really go to sleep reminiscing of the monster that killed his family? It was a weird thing to think of, but he left it to his thoughts. What he was more interested in is why the door was open and a freezing cold breeze made him shiver to his core. Lightning struck across the forest, and after the light disappeared again, an elongated figure of the pale man loomed over in the candlelit room. He was a bald man, and wore fine black clothing. But the more notable part of him was his skinny look, his giant claw-like talons, and sharp canines pointing out of his mouth.
The creature with the visage of a man simply smiled as it saw him, speaking in a raspy, high pitched tone saying "Did you miss me?"
There was an old man called Mortimer, a hermit who distrusted all those who he saw walking through his woodland. He lived in the old, cold woods of Regalia, and lived so far away from the city, the glow and lights from within were only slightly visible from the distance which he watched from. He lived alone for years and years, sitting in his old rocking chair, and reminiscing about the reasons for him being there, in the cold loneliness of the woods.
It was many many years before, and he lived in the city with his wife and children. His children were a naughty sort, constantly getting into scrapes and fights over the littlest things. Bratty could be a word to describe them. In an attempt to calm the youths, and get piece of mind that they would be better to the other children he used to tell them tales of the Pale Man who took children away in their sleep to feed on them if they were naughty. It was a simple myth which an old soldier mate of his told him when he served, and it worked well in turning the kids attitude around quickly.
After a while the kids grew older, and wiser, and begun not paying heed to the story, and this was fine, so he tried other ways in getting them straight, yet as time went on, nothing worked. Until the night. That fateful night. After the birthday of the eldest, whom had just reached age 14 that very day, he set his children to sleep in their room, sharpened his wood-axe for cutting logs for the fire tomorrow, and then snuggled into bed with his wife.
The first thing that awoke him was a scraping along the walls downstairs. Upon hearing this he quickly got up, grabbed his axe, and slipped down the steps quietly as to not awaken anyone. He wandered down the creaky steps to look, searching, and finding nothing. He looked deep in the shadows further and further, even looking around in the boxes and cabinets just in case it were rats or some street cat that had gotten in.
He stayed up a while after that, before hearing the scraping again, up the stairs. He quickly rushed up the stairs this time, not caring about the sounds which might wake his kids, though they did not break their sleep. By the time he was almost at the top he heard the creak of the doorknob to his room opening, and upon looking in he saw his wife was gone, and her shape under the covers no longer there, but for a bloody handprint on the pillow. His eyes widened greatly as he then raced to his children's room. The same sight met his eyes...but this time something was in the window.
He didn't get a good look at the creature that, but whatever it was, it must have gotten the kids. Over the next few days a search was carried out, finding nothing for a week, however Mortimer continued to sense he was being watched as he, and the guards, hunted for his family. He constantly thought he could see an elongated man in the corner of his eye as he wandered, and he kept thinking he could hear the scraping against his door as he slept at night.
Once the week was up, and he found nothing he returned home, going to go and sit on his bed when he found a bouquet of their heads in the doorway, blood dripping down on the floor. That was the day he left the city. He was blamed for the deaths too, so he would die if he did not. It was a miracle that the guards did not find him, but he knew the creature would, most likely, so he brought his axe with him. The years went by and his body withered over time, becoming wrinkled, clammy, and his hair slowly became wiry and white. He now lived alone, and he couldn't trust anyone but those who brought him gifts from town.
He awoke during the night, rain beating down on his hut in the woods, and the door staying open. Did he really go to sleep reminiscing of the monster that killed his family? It was a weird thing to think of, but he left it to his thoughts. What he was more interested in is why the door was open and a freezing cold breeze made him shiver to his core. Lightning struck across the forest, and after the light disappeared again, an elongated figure of the pale man loomed over in the candlelit room. He was a bald man, and wore fine black clothing. But the more notable part of him was his skinny look, his giant claw-like talons, and sharp canines pointing out of his mouth.
The creature with the visage of a man simply smiled as it saw him, speaking in a raspy, high pitched tone saying "Did you miss me?"
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