From the Gods’ Hollow journal of Duncan Blood.
April 18, 1930.
I am not quite sure how I came upon the necropolis, or how it came to be in Gods’ Hollow. Then again, I should have learned by now not to question anything about the Hollow. I found the necropolis, and that should suffice.
For hours, I wandered among headstones and mausoleums, crypts and half-forgotten graves. A short time before the sun began its descent, I discovered the boneyard. Acres of excavated human bones spread out before me, a drear reminder of the fate that awaits us all. As I stood on the boneyard’s edge, I heard a curious sound. It was reminiscent of branches rattling against one another in a winter breeze, of boys dragging sticks along the sides of a fence.
My attention turned toward the center of the boneyard, where the noise seemed to originate from. In silence, I watched as a small wave of bones was created. It pushed out from the center and spread, like the ripple on a pond’s surface. As the wave of bones drew nearer, I understood suddenly that there was something beneath the bones. Something coming for me.
With my Colts gripped futilely in my hands, I retreated from the boneyard, and I prayed that whatever was beneath the bones would not leave the safety of the dead.
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