As the darkness seeped into his eyes,Greg blinked a few times.He was at the Church gates.Warped and twisted bent steel poles with tapered heads narrowing to a deadly point.Greg found he could even see a bird on one of the spikes,a dead bird.With the ease of a graceful fox Greg shimmied and darted about the perimeter searching for a way in.The immense fence was intertwined with brambles and ivy and barb wire.Greg did notice a flower or two but mostly this area of the property was over run with weeds and broken tree limbs and dead stumps.If he did find a way in he would have to hurry through this deadland to get to the inner garden.He knew of the patrol men,supposed priest really,doing their nightly blessings or some such.But the real underground tales tend to make these priest into brutal demons or so the story went.
Greg knew there was a way in made secretly by himself many years ago.HIs first visit to the Church at night occurred when he was a few years younger,he had had such a bad experience that he never went back.But that memory faded a long time ago and only the weird bits about demons and death filtered into his mind.He even believed his experience may have tangled itself into old kids tales and paranoia,right now he wondered if he ever did come here.Just then he saw what appeared to be an airier patch of fence,less bramble and weeds.
Greg ran to the hole barely a hole any more and knelt down.He dug his hands into the earth and pulled out a wire cutter.It was old and rusted but he was overjoyed that it had laid here undetected for years.With determination Greg set to work at snipping brambles and barb wire that had obviously been repaired over time.
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