Inktober 2017 #18

“I awoke from mine slumber troubled with nebulous rememberances of ghastly things. I arose from the bed, no longer pleasant for it was dank with cold sweat.
I looked out the bay window of mine second storied tavern room, and saw nothing in the night sky save for the moon, waning to a wicked grin.

The sound of hurried galloping broke out in the near distance, somewhere below. By the faint moon gleam I could hardly discern the form of a horse with rider. At this sight, mine hairs prickled in gooseflesh, and an eerie feeling arose that while I had lain in mine disturbed torpor, something, ‘somebody’ had seated atop mine chest.”

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