The Tale of Sam McLean, A Draft

In a forest long ago,

There one lived a man the colour of white snow.

He dwelt amongst a village tribe,

Who have over ages past become lost to time.


Documents recovered recently though

Still tell of what they know.

And on one night when the moon was full and bright,

The town he lived in fell victim to a great plight.


The record tells that he was a man of unknown descent,

For all the village folk knew was that he and his mother came and went.

They were members of some gypsy cult

Lost to all save the few from the mystery city of Reyaltalt.


The tribe never took to the two,

And with time their distaste only grew and grew

Until the man went fiendishly mad

And slew, and slew, and slew.


Their accounts of him never strayed,

And the rumors spread day by day,

That a man who now had pale skin,

Would gaily dance daily in the wind.

He had grown skinny and tall come fall,

And the villagers grew more and more appalled,

That his appearance grew more gangly, more spindly and thin.

The rumors had spread and told he was no longer human.

For ever since that day his mother gave her last breath,

He swore he would curse everyone whom hadn't left.


He decided to hunt them and use the wind.

He stalked them before catching them and pulling them in.

His winds would tear and rip the villagers

Piece by piece and worse than if cut by many daggers.

He smiled as his victims suffered,

As they had of course killed his mother,

And he would oft' drown them in the water

At the creek with the rock that he used as he prayed aloud to Abileen.


It was at that ol' crik he made his abode

With the beasts and fowl all alone.

He offered up his kills with delight

To his lover, mother Abileen of Forest and Night.

She bid him stand upright by taking her arm and to take of her precious land,

Saying "Come and spread your wrath! Spread your madness! Learn of my plan!

As you take my hand, together forever shall we rule and sweep my forests and land with the ghouls band by band!"

The grey coloured man and witch

Had began a laugh, a cry, that reached a fever pitch.

She bowed her head

When the moon and stars were red

And said,

"The stars that will, the stars that may,

Even the Great Old Ones that live in the bay!

I call, I hark to thee hear my prayer,

I shall give thee a sacrifice worth more than any else we can spare!"

And with the flick of her wrist arose tendrils of a mist.

It thickened until the red moon and stars were blotted out,

And it wormed its way to the camp that was far out.

"Come, o come I beseech thee, I pray!

Listen to me and kill those bastards and bitches without delay!

Run my boy, my husband, my lover!

Kill them all! Let them drown in blood! Death to them and let them suffer as none other!"

And together Sam McLean and Abileen dispersed into the mist and were henceforth and afterwhich never again to have been seen.


The mist slowly crept into the village,

Like tentacles it spread and oozed and twitched.

It worked its way down the women's throats and began to suffocate them as they were 'bout to gloat.

Figures emerged within the greyish clouds,

With misshapen heads and twisted bodies that made Abileen proud.

They entered the unwary people's abode,

And raised their weapons made of coarse stone.

The bastards of the place the denizens of the mist then slew,

Leaving none left by the morning dew.