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Chilled to the bone, the five terrified priests huddled together for warmth in the sanctuary of their wooden church. It was the middle of winter in Norfolk, and the weather was lethal. But there was far worse than the cold to worry about on the frozen coast of East Anglia.The dog had been sighted again, and in a nearby town at that. As big as a horse they had said, (though surely that must be an exaggeration) and fur as black as the night itself. Men said that there were flaming pits where it's eyes should be, and that anyone who looked into them was destined to die an untimely and unpleasant death.The priests had not dared to move from their place of worship, for surely God would keep them safe from the foul devil dog? All they needed to do was wait until morning. The beast had never been seen of a morning, only in the deep darkness of night. It was only just midnight, and the priests jumped at every small movement. They would get no sleep that night. In fact, they wo
As night falls in the stormy English countryside, an old man sits down in his favourite, creaky arm chair. The room is dark and dismal, the heating minimal. Spiders have been left to run amok, leaving dusty cobwebs as far as the eye can see.The man's name is Joseph Crane, and the years have not been kind to him. As a young man he was strong and full of conviction, but he had grown old and withered. After losing his three children one by one, he began to wonder if he had been cursed to live in misery for the rest of his days. Perhaps that's when it began.You see, Joseph has a fascination with dark tales. He has spent many years reading and even writing his own tales, tales that speak of wicked things and evil creatures. Tales he will read once more this very miserable evening.Grunting and scratching at his wiry grey beard, he leans forward to collect a thick, dusty, leather bound book from the table in front of him. The inscription is faded, yet still legible. 'T