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He couldn't see far. The ash from the trees still falling created a dense fog around the area. Scorched stumps and soot where all that remained. The survivor of the fire knew he had to get away from the area quickly, else he would be found. A single mote of pale light was his only indication that he was going the right way. Keeping his view squarely on the light, he tripped on an exposed root and fell to the ground. He had lost sight of the light for but a moment, but relocated it as soon as he had regained his composure. The light seemed closer now. As he approached it, he hear the sound. An empty bell, and the the whistles of wind passing through was sounded like a pan flute. He froze, realizing that he had lost the light that led to safety, and found the light that let to death. The light drew closer, as did the bell and flute. The shadow of a skeletal being shuffled it's way toward him. It's head was that of a goat, covered in tattered ashen bandages. The man tried to run, but his legs betrayed him, and would not move. He tried to call for help, but his voice had no weight under the call of the bell. The beast stopped before him, not moving, not breathing, as if reduced to a statue. The man kept his eyes open and affixed on the beast. The pain and urge to blink growing with every second. He couldn't take it, he had to blink. The instinct of self preservation failed for just a moment before biological need for comfort. For the man, time slowed for but an instant, as the entirety of his life rushed through his mind. Yet, just before all feeling had left him, he heard a horrid sound akin to the screams of hundreds and a demonic bleat. Days later, when the dust had settled. A group of investigators found an scorch mark in the shape of a man on the ground. With a burnt bell where his neck would be.
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