The Haunting

Winter is always bitter in Boston, but tonight it seems hell bent on freezing you to the bone. The rain is falling faster now, and the sound of raindrops hitting the icy streets sound like fingernails tapping on your skull. You pull your coat tighter and draw the brim of your hat down over your face trying to stay warm; a hope too far gone for your feet in their muddy boots. You wonder what you’re doing here standing in this damnable rain outside of a house on the outskirts of the city. Keeping watch, they told you. Watching for what?

The rain begins to fall harder now; the fingernail tapping of the raindrops becoming hammers on the ice. You feel exposed as you stand, drenched, beneath a streetlamp. Hypnotized by the sound of the rain you start at the sound of a scream from inside the house. Then gunshots. Your chest heaves as you charge through the rain and throw your shoulder into the front door. Blood. Your mind reels as you see blood everywhere and the heady smell of iron assaults your senses. You follow the trail of blood into the next room. You hear the slam of the front door crashing closed behind you. Slowly, you turn around. Unable to process what you see before you, you fall to your knees and begin to cry. After a moment, your chocked sobbing becomes a muted chuckle. You wipe your nose as you start to laugh uncontrollably. Gripped by insanity, you can only smile as you are engulfed in shadow.

Welcome to Call of Cthulhu.

The Haunting

Untitled Wizardus