When Falls The Coldest Night

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 The sun sank below the horizon as the company of soldiers and King's musketeers made camp for the night

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The sun sank below the horizon as the company of soldiers and King's musketeers made camp for the night. They were deep in the forest on a sensitive mission for the King and Queen to transport important documents to a neighboring province. After the twelve men had settled around the fire and eaten, the leader of the musketeers, Augustin, ordered half to get some rest while the others kept watch.

As Augustin sat poking at the fire, the youngest musketeer, Henri, approached with a nervous look on his face. "What troubles you?" Augustin inquired. 

"The local villagers before we entered the forest warned that a large wolf has been stalking these parts and..." Henri paused as a distant howl pierced the night air. The men jumped up grasping their weapons while scanning the dark woods surrounding them.

"Werewolf tales to frighten children," Augustin smirked trying to calm the men. But secretly he felt uneasy and decided to wake more men for the watch.

Over the next few nights, they continued their cautious journey through the thick forest. However, the company felt as if some wild beast followed them in the shadows. Heavy paw prints would surround their campsite each morning. And distant howls would wake them several times each night.

On the fifth night, it happened. Sharp cries of terror and pain split the air jolting Gaspard and Gerard from sleep. Grabbing their swords, they rushed toward the screams as shadows danced among the trees from their fire's glow.

Stumbling into a grisly scene, they discovered the savaged body of François. His throat torn open and entrails strewn around the ground beside him. As Gaspard retched, Gerard's eyes caught movement at the edge of darkness. A massive wolf form watched them with gleaming eyes before turning and vanishing into the black forest.

"It's no ordinary wolf! It's the beast!" Gaspard cried out. Within minutes, the entire camp bristled with armed and anxious musketeers. Only eleven remained now. Augustin ordered the group to thoroughly search the area but there was no further sign of the creature.

"François was ripped apart by something monstrously large and powerful," Gerard said breathlessly to the group's leader. "We must leave this cursed place."

"Not until our mission is complete," Augustin said firmly, yet even he felt shaken by the unnatural attack. "We press on come daylight but double the watch from now on."

Despite their precautions, over the next three nights the soldiers and musketeers were picked off one by one. Each time the wolf would strike with astonishing speed, ferocity and cunning before disappearing like a ghost without a trace. Fear grew into paranoia and desperation as Augustin found himself with only four comrades remaining.

On their final night in the woods, Augustin kept watch alone as the others had fallen into a fitful, exhausted sleep. The attack came swiftly. Augustin spun toward screams as Raoul was plucked violently from his bedroll and dragged into the dark tree line. Augustin drew his sword and raced after them, flames from the fire lighting his frenzied pursuit.

Poe's Nightmares Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora