The Black Hound
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...." Soren repeated it like a mantra, kicking the grovel beneath his feet. He twirled, looking around frantically, but in the vast rocky emptiness of the Burren all he could see was thick darkness filled with bizarre shadows that loomed on the corner of his eye and the starless pitch-black sky embroidered with sinister-looking clouds above his head. His lantern only provided him with a faint light that barely reached a few meters ahead, and as he moved it around it only allowed him to see rocks and patches of grass.
The eight-year-old shivered, holding up his head and looking on to the horizon, his eyes looking for the distant sea, nothing but a mass of inky blackness way beyond the rocks were he stood. The blue lights were still there, glowing in the liquid distance, much fainter now, but still clear. Fergus, his loyal Irish Wolfhound, sat besides him, rubbing his nose against his hand, sniffing him. Soren stroke the puppy´s head. Fergus was barely
'Post War': Part I- 'The visit' - Chapter I'Post War': Part I- 'The visit' - Chapter I4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Spinner´s End, Cokeworth, Northern England.
Severus put down the book and puffed heavily. It was the sixth time the bloody doorbell had rung.
Probably the teenage delinquents who were in the inconvenient habit of roaming Spinner´s End on occasion. During the past few years, they had been coming over to that abandoned part of town whenever they felt bored or were being chased by the police. As a matter of fact, with the street´s alarming state of decay, most of its houses deserted, it was rather surprising that the juvenile gangster-hopefuls didn´t come around to "visit" more often.
Spinner´s End was after all a perfect hiding place...Nobody better than Severus knew that...
But the fact was that Spinner´s End was ruined to such a degree that not even those little punks took a more than passing interest in it. Sometimes they entered an abandoned house to smoke, played some loud music (that is, if that godawful cacophony could be call