Creepy - The Tale of Robert Elm

Episode Date: September 2, 2018

That old man who sits alone at the end of the bar? He has a story to tell...***Credited to G1pringle***Please consider supporting the podcast at Patreon.com/Creepypod or creepypod.com/support***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Produced by Steve Blizin, Puzzle Audio***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastors and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents. The tale of Robert Elm. Credited to G1 Pringle. The lights of the Seattle skyline suddenly ignite as the city comes alive with the sounds and sights of night. In a rundown bar, a lone man sits beneath the hum of a fluorescent overhead light as he holds his whiskey and shaky hands. is in a nick he appears that the spade habitually at 10 p.m. and leaves just before dawn ordering the same

refreshment each time a tall glass of Irish whiskey. Never speaking words far from the usual, or the occasional grunt or whisper, he is a shadow to everyone. To the passerby, this man is just a nobody. He is merely a bum who went down on his luck and turned to the bottle like many before him. To those who know, however, the man's name is Robert Elm, and he has a story to tell. The night was fraught with frigid rain and sleet. The typically lively spade was deserted except for Robert. He sat in his usual spot, back left table, facing the wall, hunched over with his beverage in total silence, save for the hum of the light and the drumming of the bartender's fingers on the metal cash register. Over the years that Robert had drifted in as the sun

dipped below the horizon, the bartender had grown curious of his motives, though he told his customers the same old, lost his job, wants to unwind, excuse in his heart, he knew there was something off kilter about the whiskey-loving shadow. Tonight would be different. The bartender bit his lip, took a deep breath, and approached his loyal customer. The bar key placed his hand on the table and inquired in the friendless of tones. How you doing? Robert cholted upright as if he heard a gunshot.

He slowly shifted his head and peered deep into the bartender's face with his wide gray eyes. He possessed an unsettling and powerful stare that pierced the air in a way the bartender had never seen before. His mouth slowly slid open as he grumbled. Fine. And you? The bartender was stunned. He had expected the old geezer's usual response in a few quiet mumbles, but was greeted by a question that was startlingly normal.

I'm just fine, the bartender said. So, Mr. I've been meaning to ask you. Helms slowly graying eyebrows perked with anticipation. Why the hell do you come here all the time? The drunker chuckled and asked in return. Why do you care what an old man like me does with his time?

Because, the bartender said with a look of confusion. You've come to my bar at the same time and night every night for the past 12 years, and I'm just now hearing you speak. I think that's reason enough for me to ask. The old man burst into laughter that lasted nearly a full minute. Finally his outburst died off, and he asked, You want to know? Why I wasn't talking? Yes!

He yelled the bartender. It's been a riddle I've been trying to figure out for years, Robert said his drink on the table and said, Well, new friend, honestly, I've been waiting for you to ask me that question. And now that we have that elephant out of the room, I have a seat across from me. The bartender obliged, took the seat across from his new acquaintance, and with a look of sheer amazement on his face, he asked,

So, let me get this straight. You never said a word to anyone in this bar for twelve years because you were waiting for someone to come to you? Yep. The shade replied as the bartender gave a short laugh and continued. Well, sir, what have you been waiting so long to tell someone? Robert Elm looked, the bartender, squaring the eyes, and said, my story, of course, the bartender gave a quizzical expression as a drinker went on, never breaking his gaze. The story of why I ended up here. The story of how I nearly escaped death itself. And since,

well, since I don't see anyone else here, you, sir, are going to be the first one in a long time to hear my tale. You are in for a treat. The old man cracked a crooked smile. Well, let's hear it then. The bartender said, and Robert chuckled again. That's the spirit, kid. Grab a drink and get comfortable. You're in for quite a tale.

And so Robert Elm began his story. It all began back in November, 1962. I was living in a small, town in rural Iowa. Back then, everybody knew everyone else like family. It was a safe place. That's why my family settled down there back when the area was a barren patch of farmland. Through the entirety of my teenage years, I was chasing a girl named Elizabeth.

I can practically see her now. As time went by, my relationship grew. after high school we bought her uncle's house on 4th street and slowly learned to live together as a soon-to-be-married pair this was a struggle to say the least when i was a younger man i had a fiery temper that seemed to grow as we became closer to one another i remember one specific instance when i heard she had wrecked my dad's ford and i i hit her across the face with a trash can Lid, I have never regretted anything more in my life. It wasn't even her fault.

Every morning, for the next month, I would come downstairs to see the pale red bruise on her face and immediately get too choked up to speak. It was a wonder she kept me around. One night everything fell apart. I can't even remember why. But she left me on the side of the road and told me to, find your own way home you sack a crap. My heart sinking as you pulled away,

and I began to wander the side of the empty country road. I'm unsure how I got so sidetracked, but after about an hour of hysterical rambling, I ended up halfway into one of the cornfields bordering the only road in and out of town. There I was, sobbing profusely, lashing out of the cornstrand, stalks with my fists and wailing, Elizabeth, and I'm sorry, at the top of my lungs with only the

birds and the occasional scarecrow bearing witness. I hobbled aimlessly for what felt like ours, screaming and crying over what I had put my beloved fiancé through, until I decided to sit down in a barren patch about 15 feet across to catch my breath, and form an apology for my eventual homecoming. After inspecting the area for any signs of danger, I laid my head down in the soft dirt to rest my eyes. Several hours of blissful, tear-free sleep passed before I was pulled awake by rustling in the stalks. My heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down my spine. I bolted upright. Before me, a massive shape. garbed in a shimmering black cloak slid out of the rows of crops.

It moved towards me slowly, as if it were floating across the ground, though its feet were clearly visible and it appeared to be human. It had pale, wrinkled hands that hung at its sides as it drifted closer. It drooped its hooded head and spoke squarely into my face in a dry monotone. Good evening, traveler. Stunned, I got up from the dirt and asked, Who are you? He answered.

Just a man on his way to a meeting. I looked at him, bewildered. Why are you here? I asked. He looked up and said, I enjoyed taking the scenic routes, so much more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of the road sides. No.

What I am wondering, are you here? As I look back, I'm surprised at how eager I was to reveal so much of myself to a total stranger. My name is Robert. I said sheepishly. My girlfriend dumped me out here because we got in a fight and I hit her and she cried and and the tears were welling in my eyes again say no more friend the man interrupted as he waved his hand i offer you a proposition you may come with me attend my meeting my friends and i shall cheer you up and we will take you back to your home in the morning how does that sound a smile's

wholly formed on my face as I thanked the hooded figure. I reached out to shake his hand for his patronage, but he quickly recoiled, claiming there was no need to thank him. Together we made our way through the remainder of the field and into the forest had formed an insulated border between patches of farmland. As we walked, I had more time to examine my new friend's figure. It was a titan of a man, to say the least. With hands I could easily cover my own twice over. Blending into the trees themselves, he towered over me at what I assumed to be well over seven feet.

He moved with surprising agility for someone of his size, darting through the branches and over roots at a speed a tad slower than a jog. I had to walk nearly twice as fast to keep up. His robe still shimmered as they did in the cornfield. though the moon was no longer visible. Oddly, no matter how fast the man moved, his hood never failed to conceal his face. Going bored of silence, I struck up conversation. So, what's your name?

I asked. The man glanced down and told me. You may call me Lombard. It is one of my many monocers. Okay, Lombard. Who are these friends here, and what is this meeting, and where are we going? Just a meeting, friend, held here in the woods with some close acquaintances of mine. You needn't worry about it, Robert.

Think of it as more of a party. It will take your mind off of your troubles. Is it this moment I realize what I was doing. doing the exact opposite of what society had taught me. I was found lying in field and decided to walk off with some strange hood of man to go and meet his friends in the woods. Our break can drive people to do some crazy things.

It wasn't long before we saw a light in the distance. As we grew nearer, the lights turned out to be a ring of torches, lining a circular clearing containing rows of cheers and tables. An altar draped with red cloth sat in the middle of it all. At each of the table sat groups of people dressed similarly at Lombard. Some of them had their faces exposed and huts down. We have arrived, said Lombard with glee. Sit down amongst the others and help yourself to some food and drink.

The festivities will begin soon. I made my way to one of the less talkative groups and grabbed a free seat. As I recall, it was the only seat that wasn't taken. Next to me sat an old couple and a younger man with his hood up. When I asked each of them why they were here,

I got a less than ideal response. The couple started cackling as if they had just heard the greatest joke of their lives. The hooded man just grunted something I couldn't make out, seeing no entertainment in the future. people around me, I decided to try the food.

There were the occasional bits of bread, surrounded by meats of all shapes and sizes. Having eaten a filling meal in town a few hours before this all began, I was not exactly starving. So I decided to give the wine a try, which is in goblet sitting in front of each chair. I took a small sip and my mind took a kick in the pants. My vision became blurred with color and I began to choke on my own tongue. The woman told me that it stops hurting after the third glass and burst into sickening laughter. After about five minutes, the effects of the drink finally subsided and I silently poured the rest onto the ground.

I didn't think any of them would notice. Suddenly a bell rang and the diners stood up from their chairs in unison and a person. approached the center of the clearing. Lombard made his way over as he walked me towards the center. How did you enjoy the refreshments? The guests. He asked. I had my tongue about my unpleasant experience at the table and said, everything was great. I have calmed down quite a bit now. What's next? Excellent, my friend. I'm sure you will pay you. hatch things up with that girl after tonight, and I'm glad to have been of assistance to you.

But now we have business to attend to. We found ourselves standing in the center of a circle of the hood of guests, all of them with hoods up and hands folded in front of them. Lombard instructed me to sit in the center of the ring. When I objected, he told me this was just a formality in order for the group to accept my presence amongst them for the night. I knelt as I was told, the Numbar took his place at the crimson altar. As I glanced around me, all the rogue people seemed to be emanating a strange droning sound

that rose and fell as the minutes passed. I looked up at my mountainous guide who turned to face the center of the circle. And in my amazement, I'd drawn back his hood to reveal a sight I wouldn't. never forget. On Lombard's long, broad shoulders sat the head of a goat. Jet black, save for a stripe of white, between its pale green eyes and spiraling ivory-colored horns that curl backwards behind his ears. The thing that stood in front of me lifted his head into the air and the droning immediately

ceased. Lombard's head reel back as he shouted into the night. Ladies and gentlemen of the black circle, I present to you the pale. The crowd roared with cheers and jubilation. On this night we shall end the torment and bring about a new era of peace for our order. A man I sat next to earlier approached the orator. My lordship, he whispered as he bowed on one knee. I witnessed him earlier.

He's not accepted the purifier. We cannot continue until he has. He then retreated back to his place and resumed the stance. Is that so? Said Lombar quizzically. Well then. I'm sorry to delay my children, but the sacrament must wait. The circle answered the statement with booze and howls that disobeyed

disapproval. A large member drew a curved blade from his robes and approached me. I attempted to stand, but was pulled down to my knees by an unseen force. For the love of Shakra, I've waited my whole life for this moment. The man shouted as he flipped a knife in his hand. Stop, you fool! You will undo everything! Lombard roared as he latched onto the man's arms. The last memory I have of that night was of the gargantuan tree-like form of lumbart, grappling with the hooded man until they both crashed to the ground in front of me. In the tangle of the limbs, the handle of the man's knife struck me squarely between the eyes,

and I lost consciousness. Part two. I awoke in a small sparsely furnished room with white walls and dark brown hardwood floor. Based on what I saw around me, I was able to estimate that the building was built in the late 19th century. I attempted to pull my head from the pillow but was met with a crippling pain in my forehead where the knife handle had struck me at the ceremony in the woods. My legs were sore and felt as though they were filled with cement. It made me shiver that I could not figure out what prevented me from standing at the ceremony.

muffled speech resonated from outside my door as the door opened. A goat-headed lumbard strolled into the room and closed the door behind him. Good morning, my guest. He bellowed. I assume you enjoyed your nap. Yeah, I did, I answered. Right after that friend of yours almost broke my nose. You needn't worry about him, my friend.

His foolish actions have cost him his place in the order. He said with a reassuring tone. Lombart sat down on the bed next to me and I instinctively wrenched my leg backwards. Calmed thyself, friend. I'm indeed human. And this is just a mask. Nothing more. What about every other?

Everything else. The mumbo jumbo you guys were talking about. The goat head, the black circle. I want answers. Now... Ah, you have a right to be frightened. All will be explained to you. Let me start from the beginning.

He readjusted himself on the bed to face me. In the late 1800s, two cousins found a town not far from here. It was a small farming community, very prosperous, a thriving community until the fever hit. Many died, including the mayor's daughter. In a last ditch effort the community banded together and stood united against the disease. They burned the village to the ground and move into the mayor's farmhouse. The house you are sitting in right now. The plan was a success. With all the medical personnel gathered in one area,

was much easier to treat the sick, and soon the fever was eradicated. Out of habit, the community stayed in this house as a single family to this day, of which I am the patriarch. Goathead dress symbolizes the single species of beasts that provided us with food and drink during the dark times, and for your information, it's permanently adhered to my head.

We dubbed ourselves the Black Circle, a name of the black table in the dining hall. We would gather around to tell stories of hope to inspire one another. The event you were the center of was known as a neophyte sacrament. We give the newcomer a small dose of a hallucinogenic, and provoke you to reveal your true feelings to us in order to tell if we can trust you. I was strongly opposed to the sacrament, but I was pressured by others and had no choice. The words we used were simply to disguise our discussion due to the circle's lack of trust.

As for the actions of Alabaster, I sincerely apologize. Lombard pulled up his massive form and spoke directly to me. Here I am. Valentine Ambrose Lombard II, with nothing to hide your service. Needless to say, I was awestruck at the volume of information that was imparted on to me. Before I could respond, Lombard asked. Any questions? I shook my head just as a woman wearing sim.

Simple brown robes came in the room, dropped to one knee and said flatly, You were needed in the infirmary, my lord. Lombard turned to her and stated, I will be there as soon as I can, Alice. Did Stephen have a run in with a thresher again? No. She laughed with a smile. I still trained on the floor.

Pierre was picking on Sylvia again. She snapped and let him have it with her little fists. I have them both down there waiting for you. The leader gave a hearty laugh. That peer. Almost as mischievous as I was when I was a little boy. He turned to me. I'll be back to speak with you later, friend.

But now I must deal with this matter first. Get some rest. Both the leader and the woman walked out of the room and shut the door on their way out, leaving only silence in their wake. My head felt heavy and I decided to take my new friend's advice and rest my eyes. I awoke in what looked like early morning to see Lombard sitting at the desk at the edge of my room. Morning friend. He said joyfully.

Come, sit, have something to eat. He stood up from the chair to reveal a platter of sausage. and bread with a glass of juice next to it. I was able to pull myself up from the bed. My legs were sore and my knees locked up as I hobbled my way to the desk and sat down. I began to sample the meal. Gather your strength. You will need it for later.

I have gotten it approved with the circle. I shall give you a tour of the house and the grounds of round three today. so try to get those legs working by then. Lombard gave a quick wave of his hand as he left the room like wind blowing through the woods. I'd finished my odd tasting dish after a few minutes. I sat for the remainder of the time stretching out my tired legs while looking out of the window. A full day of bed rest and struggle against whatever held me to the ground had left them aching and weakened. an expanse of farmland spread out in front of me, ending at a dense forest.

The single dirt road lined with torches leading up to the house. I assume that somewhere in the woods there is a picnic table and the altar, and beyond that the cornfield where I'd met my guide and somewhere beyond that, it was Elizabeth. Home. I sighed. I jumped with surprise the Lumbar broke the silence of the room. Time had passed faster than I'd expected.

Come, follow me, friend. I made uneasy strides out into a foyer with a painting of another goat-headed man. A massive chandelier lighting the room below in the rows of rooms lining the walls. Here's the second floor, used for boring for a member. The room you are staying in is the guest room. It is not used very often. It overlooks the entrance room, which we will visit later. Is that you in the painting?

I asked. Ha! No. That is the founder of the circle. My great-grandfather, Ambrose Garrett-Lombard. What a great man. I wish I could have known him in person. So he started the whole goathead thing?

I laughed rhetorically. We made our way downstairs wandering through the entrance room in a living room and the sitting room, listening to Lombard's tales of him reading stories to the children by the fireside in the winter, and of the old man who was a master of the old grand piano I was sitting in the living room. I asked them about the double doors at the end of the entrance room

only to receive a response that I should not go in there, as I do not have high enough clearance to enter yet. I walked outside and we explored the grounds. From the outside, the house was massive. It was clearly some kind of old farmhouse. We made a left turn around the house to find three buildings off in the distance. I asked Lumbar what they were for. He said one of them was the chapel, now dilapidated and unused,

a small building used for a school and a smaller concrete building used for storage. I shrugged plainly and we moved on. I took that moment to ask. Well, sir, what exactly is your job here? Lombard stopped midwalk to contemplate my question. I am the headmaster of the order, friend. I am many things. Judge, principal, father, doctor, lots of things, friend.

We walked back up to my room and Lombard instructed me that now that I know where I am, I can move about the property at will. But only during the day, at night I was confined to my room. seeing as the sun was descending below the horizon, I went off to bed. I spent the next few days wandering the grounds while getting my bearings with the area and get a sense of location. After speaking with some of the other followers of Lombard, I noticed a constant theme. They never broke eye contact, and they spoke in a very calm manner.

Regardless of age, they would find a clever way to avoid any of my questions. specifically ones involving Lombard, the concrete building, or what happens in the grand hall. Seeing that I would never find anything out from the members, I decided to go answer hunting myself. Making my way out to the structure, which was about a football field's length from the house, I decided to carefully inspect it. The building had no windows, and a single iron door secured with a large padlock, But before I could find a way to open the lock, the sun began to sit and I reluctantly

returned to the house. A couple of weeks of fruitless investigation passed until I was finally returned to my full healthy state. Feeling my strength returning, I began my morning with a quick workout. Lombard entered mid-push-up. So, I see you are back on your feet again. He said dryly. Yep, feeling pretty good.

I returned. Lombard paced back and forth. I imagine you will want to go home soon. He sighed. I stood up and looked at the tree-like figure. Yeah, I suppose. I miss Elizabeth quite a bit and I want to make amends. Good, good. Lombard paused.

If you could stay just one more week, we feel like you have become a member of the family around here, and we wish to perform a departure ritual this Sunday, just to say goodbye. You have been one of the kindest outsiders we have encountered in a long time. I walked up to the goat-headed giant, looked him in the eyes like he had done to me so many times before, and smiled.

I would be honored, friend. That night just before sundown, Lombard drifted once more into my room. He spoke in much more serious tone before, and his posture created an imposing aura about him. Robert, we are having a ritual in preparation for your departure. I require that you do not disrupt it. please stay in this room until my return. It is just a kind of rehearsal. I don't want to ruin any surprises.

I quickly nodded in agreement, trying to ignore the sudden change in the headmaster's attitude as he sped out of the room. I had not been truly honest with my host during my stay in the house. For every act of hospitality he offered, there was an event or element that will cause a person. pain of distrust in my mind. One moment, Lomba would provide me with food, and I would see him

teaching the children like a loving relative. The next, I would notice the concrete shack, or remember what had happened in the woods weeks ago. The loving kindness of the members juxtaposed with their unnervingly smooth speech and piercing stares. Every impulse in my mind told me to run, but I knew I would never make it far before I was captured, or worse. This mysterious decree brought my curiosity to its breaking point, and that night I made my decision. As soon as the house fell silent, I removed my heavy work boots, slid the door open, and stepped into the dark abyss. I've been climbing trees in my neighborhood park since childhood, and the challenge of scaling the banquet hall's walls came easily to me. After making my way down the stairs,

through the foyer, and out of the door without so much as a sound, I was impressed with my sneaking abilities. I ran around to the side of the hall and began my ascension. The climb was easy enough. Several chunks were missing from the old bricks, creating excellent handholds. It wasn't long before I found myself on the rough. From the inside, I could hear the same droning sound that I had heard my night in the woods. I desperately searched for a way inside when I came upon a small hatch that led to a ladder that dropped off in a kind of storage attic, hunkering in next to small boxes I was able to hear and see the events unfolding below me with startling clarity.

A crooked grin grew across my face as I anticipated the truth. The droning of the hooded worshippers hushed, and the mammoth lumbar took the stage, next to an eerily familiar altar. He raised his hands like the night we first met as he spoke with gusto. Ladies and gentlemen of the Black Circle, I gather you once again to bring praise to Sacra and to celebrate the presence of the pale, whose life shall meet its beautiful end on the eve of this coming Sunday. The crowd roared with approval. My friends, I sincerely apologize for the... Bumper growled under his breath.

Interruption. A few weeks ago. The audience erupted into a shower of booze and shouting. Now, now, my children. I have planned a rehearsal of sorts To show you all how we shall deal with the wretched pale And drive this skirt from our beautiful order I present to you the man who is to blame for the delay Brother Alabaster

Each member howled with joy as they pulled a blindfolded man Naked save for a loincloth with numerous strange tattoos adorning his chiseled torso into the room and on to the altar. I felt my dinner rise in my throat. Three men in red cloaks fastened the man's arms and legs to the altar as Lombard reached into the chest behind him. Alabaster was sobbing with fear and his pleads for help became incoherent screams as his limbs were restrained until one of the men in red wrapped a piece of cloth over his mouth to silence him.

Lombard spun around at lightning speed and raised a shimmering dagger above his head. Here and now, we give an offering to you almighty Sacra, an offering of flesh and blood. Halabaster was writhing now. The altar glistening was sweat. The blood welling at the corners of his chest. his mouth as he struggled to cry out. The crowd lurching forward in anticipation, licking their lips with bloodlust in their eyes. Now, for the glory of the mother, we give his life. Lombard pulled away the cloth and alabaster let out a scream so loud I could have heard it

from my room. Help me! The gague was pulled back and it was struck across the face. They pulled the cloth back again and he cried, For the glory of the mother, I give my life! Without hesitation, Lombard drove the blade into the man's abdomen as he resumed screaming with pain and fear. The headmaster made a long cut up the stomach. I could hear bones cracking and flesh ripping as the man moaned in agony. Liquid skull had splattered the headmaster's hands as it stood.

spurred it from the gaping wound. Lombard tossed the bloodied knife aside. He then plunged his hands into alabaster's twitching body and wrenched his arms upward several times until what appeared to be a liver was ripped away. I nearly vomited. Lombard held the dripping organ above his head and shouted, For the glory of sacra!

He plunged the hunk of flesh into his mouth like a wild beast. The crowd cheered with jubilation at the unholy sight. The corpse was unbound and dragged off into a side room. I was frozen, unblinking as my past feelings for my seemingly kind friend shattered. Before I could process what was going on, I heard Lombard address the members. No one is to speak of this to our guest. And regarding the pale, I'm going to see how our friend is doing.

He said with a chuckle as the cloaked men and women overflowed with laughter. I was back on the roof before Lombard could leave the stage. Part 3. My heart thundering. I bolted back to the roof as fast as lightning and rolled myself from the roof. Using my prior climbing skills, I tucked my legs in and rolled across the grass. I only sustained a few minor bruises. I ran across the side of the house, up the stairs, and vacuumed into my room just as I heard the great hall open.

I heard Lombard stundering footsteps as he climbed the stairs and approached the door. The door opened and the giant's eyes met mine. Good to see your evening was a relaxing one, friend. I shrugged and said, Now that better. That is strange nightmare. Well, he messed with my head. How did your ritual go?

Playing dumb with him as best I could. Lombard nodded. All was well. The congregation is eagerly awaiting this Sunday's celebration. Enjoy your rest, friend. I could still see little bits of hastily wiped away Vissera clinging to his mask. Lombard shut the door as I heard the rest of the worshippers coming into the entrance hall. I sat and pondered my situation.

I was trapped in this God-forsaken place for one more week until they had decided to kill me. I had one week to discover what was really going on here, in seven short days to plan my escape. The next morning I woke up early and ran off to the library, thinking that would be a good place to learn some information. The place had a wealth of books, everything from war in peace to pat the bunny. I wandered the endless shelves. until I reached the back corner of the room.

All that sat on the last dusty shelf was an old book with a leather cover. Nothing about it caught my eyes save for the title. The Book of Secra. Remembering the mysterious name from the horror last night, I snapped up the scripture and scurried out of the library unnoticed. I sat at the desk in my room and flung open the ancient volume, before me sprawled mounds of text in old English. Though it was in English, it was still difficult to understand as I trudged through chapters of sacrifice and lore.

I found not much beyond useless gibberish about ceremonies, a few of which I recognized, the method in which one is to fasten the goats had to their own, and a full-page print of a slender woman sitting on a throne with what looked like blood splattered around her mouth. Below it read, Sacra, Her Holiness. I returned the book to the library and decided to scour the grounds. Seeing as there was no way I could budge the padlock on the concrete shack, I decided to make my way to the chapel.

The door slid open easily enough and inside was what appeared to be a graveyard of old boxes and furniture. After searching for a few hours, I found nothing of interest amongst the stacks of rotten wood. The schoolhouse next door yielded similar results. A few desks sat in simple rows at the teacher's desk with a plaque bearing the name Master Lombard and chalkboard at the front of the room. Nothing else. Feeling defeated, I emerged from the building

when something caught my eye. In the grass at the door, the concrete building, sat a shining padlock. My heart leapt into my throat and I sprinted forward to the shack. I reached for the iron handle the door and suddenly sprang open. A short, stubby man emerged quickly, shutting the door. He noticed me and pushed his back against the door and spoke. Oh, no, no, no, no, boy, don't go in there.

This place is not for the outsiders. Turn back around, boy. Go back to your room lest I call for the headmaster. I sighed and grudgingly returned to the house. Though I was distraught over this defeat, I returned to my bed, met sleep with open arms. During the following days, I felt my sanity slipping away as I slowly came to grip with my fate. I stayed in bed most of the days,

refusing to eat and trying to relive as many happy memories as I could before Sunday's inevitable bloodletting. Several times during my stay, I had seen people running for the woods. They were almost immediately apprehended by groups of men clad in red cloaks. I feared the same what happened to me, and I decided. decided against making a run for it. Eventually pulling myself up on Saturday night, I thought about my situation once more. Clasping my hands together,

I contemplated how I could possibly survive. By the time I shut my eyes, I had summoned my last shreds of bravery and constructed a plan with a mental image of the house so I would know my best route out of this place. Shutting my plans away in my head and taking a deep breath, I surrendered to my subconscious.

I rose late on Sunday afternoon, unfitting for one's final day on earth, but the inevitability of death weighed on me and kept me in bed. Lombard entered the room around six o'clock. Are you ready to leave us, friend? We are making preparations for the ceremony now. When you are ready, please approach the painting at the other side of the second floor. Slide the painting to the right and it should reveal a staircase. The staircase leads to my chambers. I need to perform the finishing touches for the farewell. I quietly nodded as the door closed. For a few moments I sat and considered my plans. Sitting, sweating, breathing heavily, I made my decision. I snatched one of the pencils from the desk drawer and slid it into my right boot. Following the giant's orders, I

climbed the hidden staircase and entered a large circular room. The walls were lined with bookcases, with a massive desk resting in the center. On the desk sat piles of papers and a typewriter. Moonlight flooded in from a window above it all. Lombard greeted me with a hearty laugh. He told me to remove all my clothing except from my pants. I obliged and slowly inched towards him as I began unlacing my work boots. My left sock and boots sat on the floor next to me and I began to work on my right.

Glancing behind me, I saw Lombard looming in anticipation. I smirked and slowly slid the pencil from my boot. Without hesitation, I drove the pencil with all my might into the titan stomach. Lumbar buckled from the strike and dropped to his knees. I heard blood gurgling in his throat. I snatched the typewriter from the desk. slid it across the desk as hard I could and smashed it across Lombard's face. The headmaster collapsed to the ground in a bottle of his own blood.

Turning, I was about to make my way out of the room when I heard quiet laughter emanating from behind me. I spun around to see a bloodied lumbar rising from the carpet. His mask was now distorted and blood-soaked. You, friend, are smarter than the... Average fool we dragged off to this place. He croaked. I gritted my teeth. I'm leaving this place.

I know what happened a week ago. Now tell me what's really going on here. Lambert chuckled. As you wish, told you about our history that morning was in fact true. Though there were a few things I left out to keep you under my throat, Some cousins who founded the town are closer to us than you think. One of them was my great-grandfather, and the other was yours.

Medicine was no longer working to drive away the blight of my ancestor. Great visionary that he was decided to turn to. Other means of treatment. I found an old book amongst what he had found sightseeing in the old country, who seemed to be familiar with it, which outlined how to give praise to an ancient goddess, Sacra. In exchange for a human life, Sacra would save another. We soon began using her divine will to save the community. However, your great-grandfather blinded to reality by his morals left the village.

Just before the birth of his child, he made a vow to Dylas, the brother and polar opposite of the glorious sacra, God of mortality and justice. That his bloodline would be forever devoted to the eradication of our order. This whole ordeal has been our effort to destroy the one human that can destroy us and add the bloodline once and for all. I shook my head at his story and asked, so, so all this was planned? How much of this was planned? How long have you people been trying to do me in? I shall get to that in a moment.

But here is a secret you will truly enjoy. dark as mine to drop dead at a single time. I've looked this into account when dealing with you. I've been nullifying your power with the one thing that will weaken it. Human flesh and blood. I went white at Lombard's statement. He began to laugh even harder. That's right, friend.

I have personally slipped a bit into each of your meals since you were here. You never knew. Oh, your ancestors, would you proud of you. Oh, did he know I hadn't eaten in days? I flung my hand out and grasped Lombard's wrist. Rinching down, I felt the texture similar to squeezing down on raw meat. The giant roared as droplets of liquefied flesh dripped onto the floor. I apparently still had some power.

He roared with pain and anger. I continued to twist and yank with my vicelike grip. I felt the crunching and oozing of now gelatinous, his bone pulling away from the muscle. Suddenly, I jerked with all my might and gripped onto Lombard's severed hand as the rest of him fell off to the ground in a writhing heap. Lombard clutched his bloody stub. I see you wizened up my trickery. Clever man that you are. Place alive.

I will see to that. I shouted to him. You will never kill me, monster. As soon as I escape, I'm taking Elizabeth and getting as far from town as we can. You will never be able to find us. Or began his horse laughter again. Be safe, friend. Even when you think you are the most protected, we will be there watching you.

We will never forget, not even with that garl of yours on your sake. Wait till you hear that tale. Surely you notice how your emotions distorted when you were close to her. You should know we took the liberty of turning her into a tool of sorts. We altered her mind to force you into awakening the ancient blood in your veins in order to to drive you apart and into the arms of the circle. She was one of the most instrumental tools in our plot. She was such a naive girl.

Pretty, too. I lost it. I flung myself at my captor once again, and pressing my boot into his chest, wrapped my hands around his horns, and began to pull. Lombard screamed with pain as I pulled at the mask. I felt each stitch pop.

as I rushed up for it. The Titan began to flail his hand and stab at my body, but every contact with my skin resulted in his feeling akin to the man punching a slab of molten metal. With one last ferocious pull, I felt the final stitched tear and I flung the headdress against the wall in a splatter of blood and teeth. Lombard's body flailed and I ran to the door. His disfigured face writhed as he cried into the air,

I swear it, Robedalm. You will never escape the hand of the black circle. You will die by my hand. I smirked at my handiwork. We will see, friend. I promptly sprinted down the staircase and out of the silent house. My legs ached from the fight with a giant, but I shrugged off the pain and ran across the grass as fast

as I could. As I passed by the great hall, I could hear shrieks of terror and sorrow. I chuckled at the reaction I caused. I'll never see that thing again. I muttered. I hurried myself to the concrete shack at the edge of the property. Figured now is as good a time as any to see if I could get in that mysterious building. Halfway through the field, I turned to see hooded men with torches begin their search for me. I quickened my pace. I was able to reach the unlocked door while the search party went off to investigate the barn and tool shut.

Taking advantage of my moment of safety, I slowly slid the door open and saw a rather anti-climactic sight. The room was dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Several barrels stood around the corners and walls. A workbench was fastened to the wall next to another large metal door. at the end of the room. Just as I got to investigating the room, I heard footsteps from behind the second door. My heart skipped a beat and I had no choice but to conceal myself in one of the barrels. I slid back the lid and was met with a horrendous stench that caused me to gag uncontrollably.

I climbed into what felt like a runny swamp sludge and held my breath. As soon as I did, the old man I saw earlier pushed the door open and hobbled into the room holding one look. He approached the workbench and flung the body onto the table. To my horror. He began meticulously working at the body with an assortment of knives. Cutting and slicing with surgical precision. The entrance to the room opened again and a group of footed searchers entered and asked the old man if they had seen a man matching my description anywhere.

He insisted that he had not. After scanning the room for a few seconds, the men left as quickly as they came. I waited stiffly in the group. Beryl, holding my breath as best I could, taking a brief sip of air and staying as quiet as possible as to not reveal my location. Suddenly I heard the old man muttered to himself. Oh yes, you will cook up nicely, won't you? He let out a quiet chuckle. I gagged again, half with sickness and half with shock. I caught the old man's attention. deciding it was time for me to make my move I silently lifted the lid of the barrel and slid my soaked form onto the dark floor

fear gripping tight lid in hand I raced towards the stunned butcher and struck him on the head with a hunk of wood he dropped to the floor with a dull thud I snatched the blade from his hand and made a dash for the door but not before looking at myself under the dim light my stomach turned as I saw an entire body soaked in a heavy coating of blood and chunks of meat. It drizzled and pooled on the floor. It sickened me. Holding back the urge to vomit, I nudged the door open, revealing a dark tunnel. Far more organic than anything I had seen in quite a while. All was silent except for the drips of blood from my skin and clothes. I quicken my pace as I heard shouting from far behind me. I held my breath, ignoring the looming clusterphobia and soldiered on through the darkness.

The near endless tunnel finally opened into a small candlelit room. It was only about 12 feet across with an arching ceiling. I had little time to examine my surroundings, for when I entered the room I saw a hooded worshipper with his back facing me. Holdingwood appeared to be an old hunting rifle. Though at first my heart raced as I anticipated my own death, I was stunned to realize that he was unaware of my presence. Seizing the moment, I lashed out at the crown of his head with my stolen weapon. The man let out a quick yelp, fell to the ground, and lay motionless as blood pooled around his hood.

I let the knife rest in his skull and snatched up the firearm. Here's something I can use. I mumbled to myself as I slung it over my shoulder. On the floor I noticed a small metal hatch. Seeing nowhere else to go and remembering the search party on my tail, I opened it, descending the ladder it revealed. The ladder met the ground in an alcove on the shore of a small pond. Near the ladder I found plastic tubs filled with things like shoes,

backpacks, dog collars, among other things. Remembering the room with the old man and the cult's cannibalistic tendencies, The sight of all these tattered belongings was bittersweet. Grabbing one of the largest packs, I saw a pile of metallic objects out the corner of my eye. Bikes! Taking a deep sigh, I picked up the newest-looking one and rode off through the woods as fast as the wheels would spin into the night. After trudging onward through the woods for most of the night and subsisting off of some trail mix I found in the bag I took, I finally arrived in town. needless to say my friends and neighbors were amazed by my return however i knew i could not stay in chat

walking up to my house elizabeth rushed out to meet me i didn't even look at her i continued inside gathered my belongings and climbed into my car with elizabeth chasing me the whole way asking me what was wrong and where i had been i ignored her she looked at me with a face of sorrow that i knew was just a mask. And when our eyes met, I could tell she knew the answers to her questions. I backed out of the drive and made my way to the highway. I never saw that town or Elizabeth again. Many years passed. I traveled town to town, but every time they found me, they always found me. For years, I've been running from them, but I doubt I will ever escape their grasp. I've found safe haven in this place for 12 years.

But I fear that they are now drawing near once again. I'm too old to run anymore, my friend. Just too old now. Bartender stared in astonishment. So that's why you've been so solitary? Yes, I fooled myself into thinking that the more I kept to myself, the safer I would be. The bartender stuttered. And you're drinking, the sacrifice, the liver thing, is that why?

The storyteller let out a hearty laugh. Yes, when they do find me and bite into my flesh, I want them to choke on it. The bartender laughed grimly. The old man noticed that the moon was low. He stood and dusted off his pants. I best be leaving now. The sun will be here soon. It was a relief to finally share this story with someone.

The bartender smiled. It was a joy hearing it. Have a good rest of the night, Mr. Helm. Robert nodded and started for the door. He took the subway home like he had every night coming home from the bar, shaking his hands to keep the cold away. after a short ride he made his way into his apartment building and climbed the stairs he took a brief sigh and slowly opened the door

after hanging up his coat and scarf on the coat hanger and taking a seat in an armchair near the door he looked off into the darkness and something caught his eye it was a gargantuan figure with pale green eyes watching him from the shadow of the apartment slowly the shape plotted forward to reveal her grotesque face and a wicked mangled grin. Robert Elm sat motionless as he looked up at the being. The thing spoke to him in a labored, devilish groan.

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