][ The Owynson Unravelling ][

[ACanadianCraft (Nate) 682]

][ The Owynson Unravelling ][
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~+ A Northern Oren Night ~+

The midnight rain pounded the roof overhead. The torchlight flickered softly
through the chapel as Mason Owynson lumbered down the aisle. He hung his head
in silence, as he escaped heavy storm outside, traded for the warm interior of
a holy building in the region he was raised.

Mason bent his knee and knelt before the alter, resting his tired head upon its
surface. He traced the Lorraine Cross over his chest, before clasping his hands
together and closing his eyes in prayer. Mason had already been battling against
sleep, and he ached to rest the night in one of the many pews behind him.
Normally, The Schattenburg Chapel was bustling and full of life, a place unsuitable
for anyone to take solace and rest. In the middle of the night however, Masons surroundings
were barren and void of all signs of life. He smiled inwardly to himself as he
prayed, indulging in the solitude of the empty church. And the warmth of the
torches provided such a comfortable environment, Sleep threatened to wash over
him again.

As his silent prayers drew to a close, he leaned precariously to his left, the
warm embrace of the unconscious creeping its way into his mind. All of a
sudden, he was shaken from this bliss by the roar of thunder overhead. Mason
reluctantly opened his eyes, raising his head and looking out the window. But
his gaze met only the pitch blackness of the northern Oren night. He stared at
the window for several long moments and he thought he could see something
shifting just out of sight. He rose to his feet and approached the window, looking
out through narrowed eyes.

He struggled to see what was unseen, but the shifting had stopped. He waited,
hoping that his vision would somehow penetrate the black. Then suddenly, a fork
of lightning lit up the sky, and there, illuminated in the night, a skeletal
face stared back at him, just inches from Masons. Its skeletal mouth hung open,
as if emitting a silent cackle, rotted flesh dangling from its chin, its eyes
of crimson, gaunt and staring.

Masons screech of terror was masked by another loud clap of thunder as he fell
back. The only thing that stood between Mason and the beast was a thin pane of
glass. But the creature simply stood motionless, framed in the window, tattered
robes of black hanging over skeletal hands. Mason reached for a small hatchet
that he kept on him at all times to defend himself. But as he grasped the handle,
another fork of lighting lit up the night sky and the figure was gone…



Mason remained inside the church for the remainder of the night. Wide awake,
and waiting for the break of dawn to relieve him of his fear of what loomed
just out of sight.

[ACanadianCraft (Nate) 682]

[ Reserved ]

[ACanadianCraft (Nate) 682]

[ Reserved ]

[Moot 1719]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.