Something In The Darkness Knows My Name

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The smell of stagnant water wafted from the muddy ground as a man swatted the flies swarming around him. He swore as he made his way through the mud-covered terrain searching for a wooden cabin that he was instructed to find by his wife. Damien arrived on the island on the 19th of December 1897, the vessel he had sailed on had met a cruel fate smashing into the treacherous rocks off the north coast of the island.

Everyone that had made it off the ship alive was welcomed by the islanders and they soon settled into life on Black Mountain Island. He and his wife Maura were trying to have a baby but her womb was barren. She was told by someone in the village about a mysterious woman who had been cast out from the town. Many said she was a witch, a demon, a creature of the night. They banished her to Corvus Isle, which is northwest of the main island, nine years ago and many had thought she had died there, while others told stories of her sneaking onto the island after midnight looking for babies to steal for her rituals.

WhileDamien searched the dense undergrowth, he heard ravens calling in the distance.He made his way up a narrow path and breathed a sigh of relief when his eyescast upon a dilapidated cabin. It waserected on stilts, holding it up and out of the muddy waters below. As heapproached the cabin he noticed bones lay scattered beneath the dwelling. He paused to examine them for a moment; the skull that peered through the mud was human. His palms began to sweat as he swallowed hard; he focused on the front door of the cabin as he cautiously made his way towards it.

He thought of his wife and how she ached for a child of her own, he felt less of a man because he couldn't get her pregnant. So many things filled his mind as he found himself standing in front of the cabin door. There was a hole where a knot of wood once was and a large mystical emblem, a sigil of some kind, painted on the door in what looked like blood. Bravely, he lifted his arm to knock on the door it slowly creaked open.

"What are you doing here?" a woman shouted from behind him.

He turned around and caught a glimpse of dirty grey hair, as the rancid little old woman bombarded him with questions. Damien fell backwards and the diminutive woman towered over him.

"Who are you?" she demanded, as her colourless milky eyes widened.

"I'm Damien," he answered, completely startled by her appearance.

"Oh," she muttered, as pungent saliva from her decaying mouth drooled onto his face. She jumped backwards as he sat up and then got back onto his feet, wiping his face with his sleeve. He looked down at the old hag as she squinted up at him.

"You're here because your whore can't fall pregnant," she stated, walking towards her cabin door.

"She is no whore, I assure you," he retaliated. "She is my wife."

The woman spun around, her matted hair was crawling with what looked like lice.

"Look into my eyes," she commanded him.

His green eyes became fixated on hers and he was unable to look away. They must have stood there for an hour before she turned her back on him.

"Go home and satisfy your whore tonight," she instructed him, as she turned revealing a dagger in her ashy hands. Damien put his hand out to take the dagger but the woman struck it into his palm. He shouted out as his rich dark blood spilled from his wounded hand. She ripped his shirt open as he stood there, muttering something in a language he had never heard as she drew a symbol using her bony blood soaked index finger on his sturdy chest. She took a step back and smirked.

"Be gone with you!" she shouted. "But when the whore is with child, you come and tell me," she ordered him.

Damien nodded as he turned and walked away.

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