I traveled down the worn path going through the Deadwood. The chill in the air showing with each exhale. The light was fading and darkness seemed to permeate from the trees themselves. Fear started to grow inside of me as the world I knew seemed to disappear. The branches seemed to be reaching for me and I heard a feral growl. I spun around to see a Hellhound, a beast larger than any wolf or dog should be.
With each exhale its fetid breath sparked flames. It smelled like brimstone and death. Then I saw its keeper, a man… no a misshapen monstrosity of a thing with a humped back and rotting clothes. He barked a guttural command the hound charged me. Flames dancing from its feet. I fled down the path the darkness seemed to be swallowing me.
I ran forever it seemed, I wondered how it had not caught me. looking back, I saw the Deadwood unchanged in the fading light of day. Was it a dream? I walked back down the path freezing when I saw the burning footprint. I made the sign of the cross and hurried out of these cursed woods. I never want to go back.
The Stories of a Raving Madman 