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The rain rapped against the window panes of the shack. Wind seeped throw the thatched roof and made the candles shimmer sending chills down the back of the boys neck. The young lad finished his meal of stale bread and butter, gave his scrawny dog an old meat bone and lay down in his bed of hey by the fire. In the middle of the night the wind howled like the wolves of winter in the northern hills but that was not what woke the boy. Suddenly a shrill scream broke the night and then silence. The boy shuddered, got out of bed and bolted the door, added a log to the fire and tried to sleep. His dreams were cursed with the wails of the drowhims, ghouls that came out at night and lurked in the forest that occasionally ventured out to feed on cattle and when they could human flesh but that wasn’t often for one may protect themselves by placing copper steaks around the building that they reside in. But lately they have seemed to find a way past the copper steaks and were constantly feeding on human flash. But the drowhims can not be touched by sunlight without being turned to solid copper and people of the village use this to there advantage and try to escape. But sadly the closest place to take shelter is about 50 miles away and it would take over a day to get there and you would surly be eaten by the drowhims by then.

The boy woke up by the licking of his faithful hound. The lad went to the cupboard to find something for breakfast. He put his hand way back in the cupboard and pulled out some bread crusts. After finishing his meal he headed out for his daily routine of begging. His hound remained behind to guard the shack. The boys house was at the edge of the village and closest to the forest. His mother had eaten by the drowhims when he was about three years old and his father had left his mother before he was born. The orphan made his way down the hill towards the small village. In the middle square the boy overheard a rich mans conversation. “Ok son all we need to buy now is some good horses to get us out of the region and away from the drowhims.†The man’s son’s face was white with terror for he was afraid of the road ahead. “Will we be able to make it father?†The man’s chubby son asked. “I hope so but it’s better than sitting here waiting to be eaten.†The man replied sadly. The man noticed that the orphan had been listening and called him. “Hey boy!†“Who me?†The boy replied. “Yes you have you heard what I was saying?†“Yes.†The boy replied guiltily. “I need a servant to accompany me out of the village all my other ones are to afraid to go, I will also pay you quite handsomely when we arrive at the other village!†said the merchant. The boy was quite poor and the boy almost went berserk at the thought of a small fortune! “I will accompany you sir under one condition that I may bring my dog.†“Of course you may bring him he may be able to protect us on our journey.†“Meet me back here in an hour I will have a steed waiting for you!†“Yes sir.†The boy replied. “Oh one more thing since were traveling together wee should know each others names, mine is Mr.Fascoff my sons is Gerald and yours is?†“My name is Garath sir and my dog is Fido!â€

Garath returned an hour later with his dog and a sack of his things. “Mr. Fascoff I am ready to leave.†“Good here is your mount.†The man returned with a chestnut mare and handed the rains to the boy. The boy mounted and followed the man out of the village. The boy kept his mutt in the saddle bag for he wasn’t a big dog. They had galloped for hours stopping only to let Garath feed and water the horses.

They had traveled thirty miles and it was now dusk. They built a fire as the mists rouse about them and it became spookier.

The drowhims feared fire almost as much as they feared light but the knew that it could be put out with water. Garath heard screams in the distance every so often but every time it seemed to come closer until the small party heard rustling in the bushes around them. The drowhims were about the size of a human but there backs were slanted like a zombie and smelt terrible. “Were do they get the cloths?†Gerald asked. “Probably off there dead victims!†His father replied. That would explain the stench Garath thought. Some How they survived the night and the drowhims left them in the morning. They made it to the next village in a few hours of riding. “What should I do with the horse?†Garath asked. “Keep it boy I have no need for it and here’s your pay!†The rich man handed the boy a purse Bulging with silver and gold coins. Garath’s face was white with excitement. “Thank you very much sir.†“Pleasure.†Mr. Fascoff replied. With a great weal of his horse the man and his son galloped off and were never saw again by Garath!

The boy Soon purchased a house and got a job as the locale black smith and lived happily ever after with his dog Fido!


The end


OK thats all

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