From, Blood’s History: Hunters
I have done my share of hunting. As a young man, it was necessary. Occasionally, over the years, I have gone afield to hunt game, when the desire for venison or waterfowl has taken hold of me.
In 1927, however, I spent the better part of a summer hunting down the Spahis.
I believe this particular group slipped into Cross via Gods’ Hollow. More than likely, it was done with the help of my dead mother, wretched woman that she was.
The Spahis ranged out from the Hollow and into the neighboring farms, taking wives and daughters, leaving any males dead in the farmyards.
From June 6th to August 15th, I tracked them down. I killed several on the outskirts of their camp, and by the evening of the 15th, I fought my way into their tents. Most of the men were dead. Those who were not fled into the Hollow. While I was victorious at that moment, I would not be free of the Spahis completely for another month.
In among the tents, I found the kidnapped females, all of whom were pregnant with the children of the Spahis dark and foul Gods. The tongue of every prisoner had been torn out in order to silence their agonized screams. Some of the prisoners were mad from the pain. Others knew exactly what was coming.
I killed the prisoners, putting a shot through each head and one through every fetus. Then, I set fire to the tents and went to hunt down those who thought they could escape.
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