The occasional squeal, high-pitched from fright, interposed itself between gasps and choked sobs as the Gremlin stumbled hastily through the swamp. Winded, exhausted, terror impelled it on, muck and grime sucking at boots and fouling its already much-fouled robe. The little creature stank, not merely of swamp.
Will-o-wisps drifted through distant trees as the methane of the place gave light to an eerie glow. Twisted, dessicated trees leered down at the diminutive cleric, clawed branches snagging its clothes, catching it up and causing new outbursts of frenzied shrieks as it flailed madly to free itself. Grunts, hoots, buzzing and chitters permeated the swamp night, underscoring the frightened howls and sobs.
Not far behind it, taking things at a liesurely pace, an impossibly tall, thin and black creature skulked along. It moved along tree branches, gliding over water, using the methane gases as cushioned walkways. It was a slice of night and nightmare, mad, razor-sky eyes glinting. A touch of the absurd, the impression of a stetson and a neon-green dinner jacket that looked like discarded garb hung on a mobile, giant stick-figure.
The Gremlin looked back, caught sight of it, screamed incoherently and pushed itself faster. Too quickly to watch the ground ahead, it tumbled into a murky wash. Sobbing, gasping, weeping nonsense, it clawed at muddy roots in the unnatural gloam, practically hurling itself up and out.
The thing was still back there, perched on the branch of a tree, an insectoid appearance with spindly, too-long legs bowed out. It looked ready to spring. A massive smile, too wide, to huge for a normal face exposed perfect white teeth.
The gremlin propelled itself forward, crashing through the brush and the much, screaming again; ahead was the Inn, safety. Sobs of horror and fear shifted to relief.
A hand more akin to a claw darted from between branches, snatched the collar of the Gremlin's robe, hauled it up off the ground. Up and up and up, defying normality and perspective. It twisted and flailed and howled piteously into a shadow where it knew a face was, with mad eyes and perfect teeth.
A flash of white, and silence for a moment.
The hooting, the grunts, the chatter of the swamp night returned in a few moments. Stranger things had stalked this place, it was not perturbed long. The Gremlin, in a daze, staggered the last quarter mile to the Inn, directly toward the entrance and proceeded to bash its head against the doorstep in a slow, methodical rhythm, all the while muttering "Chocolate Donkey Pianos." *THUMP* "Chocolate Donkey Pianos." *THUMP*
Back a ways, in the trees, an odd little man sat on a treebranch swinging legs like a young boy happy with a prank, grinning.
"Well, that was fun. Amazing, what you can get away with out in the sticks."
Will-o-wisps drifted through distant trees as the methane of the place gave light to an eerie glow. Twisted, dessicated trees leered down at the diminutive cleric, clawed branches snagging its clothes, catching it up and causing new outbursts of frenzied shrieks as it flailed madly to free itself. Grunts, hoots, buzzing and chitters permeated the swamp night, underscoring the frightened howls and sobs.
Not far behind it, taking things at a liesurely pace, an impossibly tall, thin and black creature skulked along. It moved along tree branches, gliding over water, using the methane gases as cushioned walkways. It was a slice of night and nightmare, mad, razor-sky eyes glinting. A touch of the absurd, the impression of a stetson and a neon-green dinner jacket that looked like discarded garb hung on a mobile, giant stick-figure.
The Gremlin looked back, caught sight of it, screamed incoherently and pushed itself faster. Too quickly to watch the ground ahead, it tumbled into a murky wash. Sobbing, gasping, weeping nonsense, it clawed at muddy roots in the unnatural gloam, practically hurling itself up and out.
The thing was still back there, perched on the branch of a tree, an insectoid appearance with spindly, too-long legs bowed out. It looked ready to spring. A massive smile, too wide, to huge for a normal face exposed perfect white teeth.
The gremlin propelled itself forward, crashing through the brush and the much, screaming again; ahead was the Inn, safety. Sobs of horror and fear shifted to relief.
A hand more akin to a claw darted from between branches, snatched the collar of the Gremlin's robe, hauled it up off the ground. Up and up and up, defying normality and perspective. It twisted and flailed and howled piteously into a shadow where it knew a face was, with mad eyes and perfect teeth.
A flash of white, and silence for a moment.
The hooting, the grunts, the chatter of the swamp night returned in a few moments. Stranger things had stalked this place, it was not perturbed long. The Gremlin, in a daze, staggered the last quarter mile to the Inn, directly toward the entrance and proceeded to bash its head against the doorstep in a slow, methodical rhythm, all the while muttering "Chocolate Donkey Pianos." *THUMP* "Chocolate Donkey Pianos." *THUMP*
Back a ways, in the trees, an odd little man sat on a treebranch swinging legs like a young boy happy with a prank, grinning.
"Well, that was fun. Amazing, what you can get away with out in the sticks."
