Here’s a sample of Duncan’s newest journal to be released.
They were fools.
Mankind likes killing too much to ever end war.
We excel at it. We attempt, with each passing year, to perfect the art of war while knowing full well that someone else is doing the same thing.
Does this deter us from fighting? No.
Will it ever? I doubt it.
Some prefer peace to war, negotiation to violence. In my long life, however, I have discovered that those who prefer negotiation are far outnumbered by those who would choose violence.
I am one of those who would choose violence.
I have killed a great many people and creatures in my life. I suspect that I shall continue to do so right up until the day I die, whenever that might occur.
I fought in terrible battles before the Great War, and I fought in terrible battles after.
None of them, however, could compare to those four years I spent in Europe.
Oh, I got home on occasion. I traveled dark paths to check on Cross and to make sure Gods’ Hollow was behaving itself. But for most of the years between 1914 and 1918, I was in Europe. Belgium, France, even Germany at times. Not only did I fight the Germans and the Austrians, but other things as well.
The violence wrought upon Europe woke up ancient creatures. Artillery tore open gateways to new worlds and invited monstrous entities into the carnage of the Western Front. By the end of the war, I was spending more time hunting these beasts than I was fighting anything human.
I kept several journals during the war, and here, in this small book, you’ll find some of the more interesting entries from those journals.
A few are about people. Plain old men and women conducting themselves in terrible ways. Some justified, most not.
The majority of entries, however, are about the monsters that I saw. The monsters I hunted.
There are dark creatures in the world. They lurk in the shadows of old buildings and in forests, grown old and angry. The monsters linger in closets and beneath beds, under stairs and in narrow attic peaks.
I killed a few during the war, but not all.
As my father said when I was a boy, keep your knife sharp and your powder dry.
Odds are you’ll need them sooner rather than later.