Folklore of the Mind: December 2017 >

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Folklore of the Mind is just a name I chose, basically because I want people to use creative stories from their own minds. This isn't entirely dedicated to folklore as the name suggests, there will be all kinds of post's on my blog including folklore, urban legends, horror stories both short and long, myth's, creepy poems, flash fiction and creepypasta's.

Sunday 31 December 2017

New Years EVE!!!

Every year a different one of us host a party to bring in the new year, its your usual gathering around the table for dinner followed by some cheesy game of charades along with a glass of bubbly or two. I personally find it very tedious with it being very structured, every year its the same I often wonder to myself "Do people actually look forward to this night every year?", but it seems they do and who am I to argue with that, its my year to host and host it I will but with a twist, i'm gonna make things interesting.

Nine o'clock came and off goes the door bell, in they come all dressed up and smelling like they spent the last hour bathing in a bath of cologne and perfume, especially the perfume. The one good thing about hosting is that you get brought gifts, most of them are useless that I will never use or try to exchange but you do get the few that are worthwhile. They all gathered around the table as I brought out plate by plate but they were covered over I didn't want to reveal the surprise just yet, well not at least until everyone was had their fill.

I stood up and gave a sarcastic speech about how much it means to me to have all my friends here and wishing we all have a great night, before telling them all to eat up. As each of them took off the tin cover to reveal what was underneath I could feel something inside me tingling with excitement, their reactions were priceless, the look of shock and horror on their faces makes it all worthwhile. The loud high pitched screams are like music to my ears, each plate filled with a nasty appetizer of which included - a plate of bugs, a human hand with the dirt of the nails left in for extra flavour, the head of a crow and my personal favorite pigs tongues topped with the eyes of their young.

They all tried to flee the room but the doors slammed shut, I asked them " Where you going, we didn't even break out the charades yet" which didn't go down well and was met by "What kind of a sick freak are you" and " Is this your idea of fun" I nodded to this question. Nobody was leaving until they cleaned their plate, I waved my hand which bound them all to their chairs and gave them each an ultimatum - "Eat up or I snap your necks one by one".

The first guy refused so as I promised I snapped his neck with one turn of my wrist, the rest sat there looking terrified but they reluctantly started digging in to their delightful meal. What a sight it is to watch seven professional adults cry over their dinner, the smell of perfume and cologne was soon replaced by sweat and in some cases urine. The clock was fast approaching midnight and I knew I didn't have much time left to toy with these sophisticated sheep of society, so after giving them a few minutes to digest I gave them a choice - "One of each couple has to die right now and seen as I already killed one guy then his wife gets a pass, its your lucky day honey".

Not surprisingly the three men volunteered but unbeknownst to them I liked to think of myself as a fan of this gender equality buzz that seems to be floating around here on Earth, so I was gonna kill another man and two females, I didn't tell them this as I wanted to see who would step forward, think of it as a social experiment. I gave them the chance to say goodbye before firstly snapping one mans neck, who lay next to his sobbing wife. Next I turned to the two remaining couples who sat there hugging each other, I wanted to make it quick so I snapped my fingers and killed both the women. The men sat there in shock before charging at me but as hard as they try they cannot hurt me.

11.58 pm I opened the doors and forced the remaining people to leave. My name is Eve I am the Demon of this day of the year, hence the name. People think New Years Eve is a day of celebrating, for its the last day of the year but the truth is it was once a day assigned to me by God who banished me after something went horribly wrong but this day stayed attached to me and now once a year the power of this day releases me from the horrible place I was put in and I take control of one innocent victim and torture their friends for the night.  Happy New Years All.




Saturday 30 December 2017

The Witching Hour

Have you ever awoke to find yourself confused and scared for no reason whatsoever, or if you cannot sleep you get that eerie feeling that someone or something is watching you? And have you noticed both these normally occur during the hour of 3am and 4am? Well this is because this hour is known as the witching hour, where black magic is said to be most effective and also where supernatural beings come out to "play", as it is a reverse of the time that Jesus Christ was killed at. In hospitals worldwide the most deaths have occurred during this hour, in the days of the witch hunts if a woman was caught outside at this time she was seen as a witch and sentenced to death, and finally it is also the hour in which no prayers were said or catholic church services held as marked by the canonical hours.

In the City of Bristol, South West England, there is a hotel located outside the City called Benvenuto which meant welcome in Italian. It is owned by two elder Italian gentlemen who seem to never take a day off, on arrival at reception one is always there to greet you with a smile that shows off his yellow teeth while the other can be seen in the back room rocking back and forward on his chair watching some cheesy Italian dating game show that had the volume up way too loud. The interior of the hotel was full of character, it had an old Victorian look to it with a huge chandelier taking your attention as soon as you enter. There is a stylish staircase that takes you up to where the rooms are, there are only 15 rooms in total, each had its own name and unique feel to them.

Tommy Jenkins, a harmless try-hard man had just drove down from Liverpool for a weekend break away, his relationship with his wife was on the rocks so they decided to have a break away from each other. He booked two nights in the Benvenuto as he wanted somewhere outside of the chaotic city to "clear his head" and it was cheaper, something he took into consideration a lot in his life. He checked in without any trouble, which he was surprised at and shown to his room by the yellow teethed smiling Italian man while noticing in the background the other guy rocking back and forward, eyes glued to the T.V. His room was called The Wicker Room, all the furniture in there was either plaited or woven to create the desired look, a king sized bed and a stacked mini bar as a token of good will - Tommy thought to himself that this was a weekend he wont forget in a hurry.

After taking advantage of the facilities of the room including the mini bar, Tommy decided to go down and check out the bar in the hotel - he wasn't a huge drinker but he had the "When in Rome" feeling tonight. The bar was named The Witching hour, described to Tommy by the drone like barman as "Appropriately named as it closes at three and the clientele might aswell be possessed at that hour". He sat drinking his pint of lager and nibbling on a bowl of chips gazing around attentively at everyone interacting and losing themselves in the night, Tommy got a kick out of judging peoples actions.

A few drinks later he got brave, his inhibitions started to lower as he walked up to a guy who was throwing darts and asked if he wanted a game to which the guy smirked and obliged. After the formal handshake was over with the man he looked at Tommy and asked "What room you in son"
"Um the wicky room or something like that" replied a carefree Tommy, the other guy laughed while looking equally confused "The wicky room? you mean the wicker room you numpty, nice room that, you should have a very fun night!!". As the game progresses Tommy noticed something on the dart board -  each number had a different supernatural being attached to it right between you hit a treble and a double, the other guy saw that Tommy noticed it and put his arm on his shoulder saying "Add's a bitta character to it heh!!"

The night was drawing to a close and Tommy was about to call it a night, it was coming up to 3 am and the bar was shutting but not before the guy asked one favour of him "As with the hotel tradition may I ask if you will throw one single dart at 3 am when the lights of the bar flicker, just as a sign that you had a good night" Tommy replied " Erm sure thing mate" and when the lights did indeed flicker he swerved his wrist and threw the dart which landed on eight that had some sort of ghost on it,  " 8 huh, nice choice son nice choice" said the estranged guy in his common British accent. Tommy walked up to get the dart he threw and as he turned to eventually ask what the guys name was the guy had disappeared, maybe he had just met batman Tommy joked to himself before staggering up to his room still laughing at his joke.

Resting his head on his pillow thinking what a great night he had he could hear the faint sound of a piano playing, it sounded like it was in his room but there was no piano so he ignored it and said out loudly to himself "Its probably someone trying to impress some girl he pulled with his crap piano skills hahahaha". His eyes about to close to enter the land of nod before the loud bang of a door slamming shut made him jump up from his bed and wonder what the hell that was, he walked around the room rubbing his tired eyes, he could hear giggling from the bathroom, slowly pushing open the bathroom door he was met by a lot of steam as if the shower was on its highest temperature for the past hour, wondering to himself if he was dreaming or going crazy he rubbed out the steamed up mirror before noticing that standing behind him was a figure that had its eyes burned out, with the smile and makeup of a clown, along with wearing a shirt covered in blood and a knife that seemed to stem from an opening in its knuckles, all the while being very transparent.

Tommy rushed out of the bathroom trying to close the door but the ghost figure just walked straight through it, he frantically asked "Who are you? What do you want?" but the response he got was just a giggle before it charged at Tommy slashing his face and knocking on to that lovely bed he earlier didn't want to leave. The bed was filled with more of that steam like smoke which caused Tommy to start suffocating slowly, as he gasped for air his head was filling up with this smoke causing one of his eyeballs to pop out and teeth to shatter, blood poured violently from his nostrils and ears before after a minute or so his head exploded making the same sort of sound as if you had popped a balloon.
The ghost then sucked the rest of his body up into the smoke which was then trapped inside a small container that read " Smoking Kills" before vanishing back into the bathroom waiting to be called upon again.

The next night at the hotel was like any other , the two Italian men at the reception area waiting to check in the next poor victim and the guy in the bar throwing darts waiting to see what fate awaited that person. Tommy Jenkins was put on the missing list by the authorities with most saying that he had either run away or killed himself due to his unhappy lifestyle but no one knows the truth about what happens at Benvenuto between that special hour of night.


Tuesday 19 December 2017

The Dark Side of Christmas : The Kallikantzaros

In Greek mythology there is said to be a rather special tree known as the World Tree of Christmas. It is thought that the roots of the tree that were all linked underground brought great happiness to everyone around this time of the year as the link between them was at its most prominent on December 25th and going straight through to January the 5th, the 12 days of Christmas. This tree was a place of worship for not only locals but from people from all over the world who gathered in hope of gaining some of the positive energy that the tree gave out during the twelve days.

With every good aspect to something there seems to be a bad one, and this comes in the form of the Kallikantzaros. These are small green goblins that live under the ground burrowing through the soil like moles desperately trying to cut the roots of the famous tree away, for the sole purpose of bringing misery to everyone who sought the opposite. It was only during the twelve days each year that these nasty goblins would appear as they worked in tandem with the winter solstice in which the sun ceases its seasonal movement.

Many speculate that these are harmless to people, with their only intention of destroying the tree, but as with the movement of time the Kallikantzaros have evolved. They not only aimed to destroy the world tree but also any Christmas tree that belongs to a family with more than three kids, as they didn't have the ability to count past three so they see anyone with kids above that number as some form of evil and their tree was the source of this power.

Their appearance differs from story to story with descriptions ranging from being green and very hairy to being red and scaly with horns on either side of their forehead to help with the digging. In Irish mythology the Kallikantzaros are very similar to the Leprechauns, in appearance and in how they are very mischievous in their ways. Another fellow related character would be the garden gnome, there is history of the gnomes coming to life at certain points of the year and wreaking havoc only to just revert back to their stone like feature and watch as the children get punished for the crime.

One last detail about the Kallikantzaros is how someone becomes one. There are two ways but they both must be done - If a family has a fourth child between the twelve days (Dec 25th - Jan 6th) and if that child dies between them dates before he reaches the age of four. If this happens then the soul of the child is trapped within the clutches of the goblin like creatures and no lore or legend has an answer of how to escape.







Thursday 14 December 2017

The Dark Side of Christmas: Gryla

In the mountains of Iceland is said to live a scary old woman, but this woman was not like any other, in appearance nor in how she carried herself, there is some debate to whether she is actually human with more saying that she is in fact a troll. In a dull and dreary cave was where she resided, she was always in a bad mood and had thirteen short tails that were tucked beneath her shabby gown. Curly long nails and a spotted face added to her hideousness.

She was married three times, the first two times she killed her husband because they were not able to give her what she wanted ; the ability to have kids of her own. This made Gryla develop a hatred for children, especially the happy ones. Once a year around the time of Christmas she would set off looking for happy children and kidnap them via her large rucksack that she hunched over her broad shoulders and walked back to the cave with. She would not kill the children but would snip their nails and cut their hair before adding it to a large pot to make her favourite dish of all - Kids Stew.

She believed by doing this that it would somehow get rid of what she believed was a curse put upon her that she couldn't have kids, so year after year she grabbed hapless children before scarring them for life. This all stopped when something happened to Gryla, one day she awoke to find that at the end of each of her tails lay a new born baby, thirteen in total and these would be know as The Yule Lads.

After these kids were born her anger lessened and she became tired, her and her husband Leppaludi, a similar ugly looking troll with a hatred for happiness, decided to rest for whatever time they had remaining. Not to be forgotten was her pet cat, a large black cat known as the Yule Cat who accompanied Gryla on her kid snatching escapades of yesteryear  but now roams around the cave content that her master is happy.

Her age is unknown but is said to be over 300 years old and her only weakness was the bright Christmas lights of the City/Towns. She was a fearsome troll once upon a time and her story is still told around schools and all sorts of Christmas gatherings, "Beware of the grumpy old lady and her cat" this sign can be seen all around Iceland and is said to refer to the legend of Gryla. Her whereabouts in the world of folklore has been a mystery for many years now but her kids still live on. There is one thing that can be sure, Gryla was as fearsome and frightening as they come with many giving her the title as "The mother to all the evil of Christmas".



 

Sunday 10 December 2017

The Dark Side of Christmas : Hans Trapp

Christmas is a time of year for giving and to be with your family but along with the many stories you hear of happiness there are also a few tales of terror around this time.

According to the legend , there used to be a man called Hans Trapp who was rich and powerful and lived in the heart of the Alsace. He had a very bad reputation, known to be awfully cruel and very vain and heartless, he spent his life doing whatever means necessary just so he could live a better life no matter how bad of a crime he had to commit he didn't mind doing it. A bitter and narcissistic man, Trapp hated to see others happy.

He was said to worship Satan and delve into the realms of black magic, this was how he gained his wealth and power but when the Catholic Church found out about this he was arrested and brought before the Pope in Rome and thrown out of the church for the crime of sacrilege. On his return to the Alsace, everyone abandoned him, they took his land and money and exiled him deep into the forest away from society.

He was pushed into a region of Bavaria known as the mountain of Geisberg and here he built a small shack made from sticks where he would take refuge while slowly losing his sanity dreaming and planning his revenge on all who took what he had away from him. Over time as his anger grew and food became more scarce he had cravings for human flesh, these cravings got more intense up until all that took over his thoughts was him biting into the flesh of a human arm or leg.

Roaming around looking for sticks and hay he had an idea to disguise himself as a scarecrow in an effort to lure young kids in. One day a boy passed by, he was no more than 10/11 years old but Hans saw him as the perfect victim , he was drooling at the mouth as his taste for flesh became uncontrollable he jumped out and attacked the boy. He brought the body of the boy back and roasted him over an open fire, he licked his lips preparing to finally taste what he had so wanted for a long time until at the moment of the flesh entering his mouth he was struck down by lightening. Many believe this was an act of God as he would not allow the crimes of Hans Trapp to continue anymore and he put an end to him once and for all.

The story of Trapp is still told around these parts of the world around Christmas time as a way of scaring kids into doing good by muttering the words "Hans Trapp will come for you". The visual of Hans is that of an old hunched over man with a long grey/black beard and always wore a long brown coat but that was him before he was exiled, since then he is known as the scarecrow man with many believing that if your kids act out in a bad way then he comes knocking on your house waiting to devour your child.

If Hans does visit your house the first thing you will hear is the sound of sticks breaking in the yard and the swoosh of his invisible steps through the snow. If this is heard then the only ways to prevent him from entering is to attach a small figure of a scarecrow with a cross and say out loud the prayer of Saint Nicholas, this guards the house from the presence of Hans.

Across many regions this terrifying tale is told, some believe it to be true and have their own experiences while others believe it to be nothing more than a sick way of scaring your kid into doing good. Either way the legend lives on to this day and is just one of the many stories to the dark side of Christmas.



Wednesday 6 December 2017

The Dearg-doo

The Dearg-doo: the Waterford Vampire
My love is colder than black marble by the sea.
My heart is older than the cold oak tree.
I am the flash of silver in the sun.
When you see me coming you had better
Run...run...run...
-          Dearg Doom, Horslips

     The two greatest tales of the Vampire have been written by Irish authors, Sheridan Le Fanu, a Dubliner who was central to the development of the ghost story genre in the Victorian era, and Bram Stoker from Clontarf, whose Gothic novel Dracula has inspired numerous films and television series. Their inspiration lay in the stories and legends of their homeland. Montague Summers, an English clergyman noted for his quirky studies on vampires and werewolves (as well as being the translator of the Malleus Maleficarum, a 15th-century witch hunter’s manual) outlined that ‘In ancient Ireland the Vampire was generally known as Dearg-dul, “red blood sucker,” and his ravages were universally feared.’
     Numerous corruptions of this Gaelic phrase have led to a variety of attempts at Anglicisation, the most common of which appears to be the Dearg-doo or Dearg-due. On the website Vampires A thru Z entry for the ‘Dearg-due’ records:
Area from/nationality: Ireland. A dreaded creature, whose name means “Red Blood Sucker.” An ancient vampire that dates back to Celtic times, it is still feared. The only way to curb its predations is to pile stones upon any grave suspected of housing such a beast. The most famous tale of the Dearg-due is the story of a beautiful woman supposedly buried in Waterford, in a small churchyard near Strongbow’s Tree. Several times a year she rises from her grave, using her stunning appearance to lure men to their doom.

     The core facets of this story are noted by Dublin’s Evening Herald from 1975 that in ‘Waterford: A vampire is supposed to be buried in the tiny graveyard by the ruined church.’ The Ghost Club, founded in London in 1862 has been the leading organisation in investigating ghosts and hauntings since its establishment. In 1960, the parapsychologist (an investigator of paranormal activity), Peter Underwood became the President of the group (a position he held till 1993 subsequently forming the Ghost Club Society in 1994). In an interview with the Evening Herald in 1977 he stated:
 In Ireland there is a persistent legend that a vampire lies buried near Strongbow’s Tree in Waterford. Some say the vampire is Strongbow himself, Richard de Clare, second Earl of Pembroke, who occupied Waterford in 1171; others say it is his wife, Aoife, the daughter of the King of Leinster whom Strongbow succeeded. Aoife is said to have cut her own son in two for showing cowardice: as evidenced the truncated effigy in Christ Church Cathedral Dublin.

Strongbow or Richard de Clare, lead the Norman invasion of Ireland and helped the deposed King of Leinster, Diarmait Mac Murchada (Dermot MacMurrough) reclaim his kingdom. In return for re-taking the kingdom of Leinster, Strongbow was offered the hand of Mac Murchada’s daughter Aoife in marriage. We know that upon his death in 1176, de Clare was first interned in Christ Church Cathedral Dublin, while there are various beliefs that his remains may be at Christ Church Cathedral in Waterford and the Dominican Abbey in Kilkenny. Nevertheless, in relation to the legend, Underwood continues:
The haunted graveyard at Waterford is small and overgrown, a ruined church adds to the macabre atmosphere and for centuries it has been claimed that even after the awful creature had been laid in the customary fashion for vampires, this one still lured young men and girls to the sinister spot on dark nights and many stories can be traced, even today, of curious experiences in the vicinity of Strongbow’s Tree.
The rather vague reference to a graveyard in Waterford, and the consultation of burial records is complicated, as the website of Waterford City and County Council highlights that there are ‘many burial grounds for which no burial registers survive, many burial grounds that are closed, or some that are not in the ownership of the local parish.’ Yet we once again have the reference to Strongbow and “Strongbow’s Tree”.
     Another respected source in this field is Anthony Masters’ the Natural History of the Vampire which:
states that in ancient Ireland there was a vampire known as the dearg dubh which was kept in subjection by having a cairn of stones built over its grave. A female vampire he adds, lurks around Strongbow's tree near Waterford, under a ruined church, "and it is to this sinister place that she lures, by her fatal beauty, men with good red blood running in their veins.

Perhaps the idea of a female vampire being that of Aoife, as eluded to by Underwood, comes from the tale of her death. As a young woman upon the death of her husband, Aoife had a fortress constructed at Cappamore to protect her territory and raise her children while feuding with the Quinns. However, she was shot through the throat by the Quinns one day and was interred in the crypt of Kilkenny Castle.
     It is Montague Summers who elaborates the most on the tale of the Waterford Vampire in his study The Vampire in Lore and Legend. However, he refers to a “Strongbow’s Tower” rather than a ‘tree’. He writes:
It has been stated: “At Waterford, in Ireland, there is a little graveyard under a ruined church near Strongbow’s Tower. Legend has it that underneath the ground at this spot there lies a beautiful female vampire still ready to kill those she can lure thither by her beauty.”

     And it is Summers who gives the most reasonable explanation for the whole tale, will trying to explain the reference to “Strongbow’s Tree”:
No authority is given for this, which is perhaps hardly surprising when one knows that there is not nor ever was such a tower at Waterford as “Strongbow’s Tower.” Probably there is some confused reference to “Reginald’s Tower,” which Strongbow (de Clare, Earl of Pembroke) used as a fortress in 1170, and where King John established a mint, whence it was called Dundory. The great Irish authority, the late Chevalier W.H. Gratton-Flood informed me that there is no legend of a Vampire connected with Reginald’s Tower, and probably the following tale has been confused which is related in regard to the capture of Waterford by the Anglo-Normans by Giraldus Cambrensis in his Topographia Hibernica. A frog was found in the grassy meadows near Waterford, and was brought alive to Cork before Robert le Poer, the warden of the city (who lived in Reginald’s Tower). All were astonished at the sight of the frog, this being the first frog discovered in Ireland. It is said that the frog was solemnly interred in Reginald’s Tower. Cambrensis notes that the frog must have been brought over by Strongbow among the baggage of the force he led from England.

Giraldus Cambrensis also known as Gerald of Wales was a Cambro-Norman archdeacon of Breton and historian, whose account of his journey to Ireland, who was related to some of the Norman invaders of the island. The Topography displays many prejudices particularly towards the native Irish, portraying them as barbaric savages.
      The lack of answers or explanations for the legend doesn’t lessen the tale itself. This may be why Bram Stoker wanted people to ‘believe in things you cannot’. Legends like the Dearg-doo allow us to recognise that there is always to sides to the world. Again, to evoke Stoker, ‘The world seems full of good men – even if there are monsters in it.’ To paint the world as good or evil, black or white, dead or undead goes someway to exploring morality and humanity and goes someway to explaining the complexity of man.

     Often though, just like trying to understand the tale of the Dearg-doo and searching for the grain in truth in it, one is left with more questions than answers. A metaphor for life itself! As Sheridan Le Fanu wrote, ‘Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.’ 

Side Note ; This historical story was done by a friend of mine Cian Manning, I appreciate it a lot and is very well written. Hopefully I will have further contributions by him in the future.

Tuesday 5 December 2017

Gargoyle

The legend of the Gargoyle dates all the way back to around the seventh century and to the time of Saint Romanus. He was said to have freed the country of Roeun of a monster called Gargouille  which was dragon like with large wings sprouting out from each shoulder blade and the ability to breathe fire. It wasn't much bigger than the average man but was way more ferocious and hated to be disturbed especially by humans.

The Saint brought along with him the help of a condemned man in a bid to battle the creature and two days later he returned with it subdued inside a cage and led back to Roeun to be killed. It was thrown into a large furnace to be burned, everyone could hear the cries of the gargoyle as it was burning up but something strange happened - the head wouldn't burn, it remained intact. Saint Romanus then mounted the head and stuck it outside on the walls for everyone to see, he attached it to a body made of stone that was filled with the ashes of the dead monster and unbeknownst to him or anyone else this actually warded off evil from entering that building and was therefore used for protection. As a thanks to the condemned man, whoever the Archbishop of Rouen might be has the power to grant freedom to any prisoner on that day every year.

In modern times the Gargoyle is a rarely seen creature with it thought to have moved around from country to country over the years before eventually returning back to France. There aren't many around anymore since word got out of the benefits of killing one has they have been hunted by the rich and desperate and used by them as security within their own homes. They are lonely creatures who just want to live a life away from everyone but have over time been conditioned to hate humans after what they have witnessed.

When they attack they do so maliciously, they do not need to eat that regular and only feed on humans when it is absolutely necessary. They are clever and only snatch people when they least expect it and when no one is around to see it, they would toy with the person for several days up to the point of boredom and then usually kill them in the most popular Gargoyle fashion and that is flying to the tallest building around and holding them upside down for a few minutes before releasing them to plunge to their death.

There is a debate over the decency of the Gargoyle and that it is only acting out after years and years of cruelty shown to them by people but this debate cannot be leveled at this one particular Gargoyle Rurluack. He is the nastiest one said to ever exist, he does not kill out of revenge or out of necessity he does it out of fun and anger but not only towards people but towards anything it can get its hands on , including his own kind.

It has been the subject of many hunts but never to any success, there has been many lives lost on the hunt for Rurluack. Fast and deceitful , he flies the skies of Paris full of rage hoping to strike down some lost soul walking alone and terrorize them. His mission is to destroy the Cathedral of Notre-Dame by first getting rid of the Gargoyle statues on the outside that ward the place of him entering then by killing all that are inside and finally bringing this Cathedral crashing down. This is where they have burned the bodies of Gargoyles for the last few hundred years since they moved from Roeun to Paris.

He can often be seen at the stroke of midnight standing on top of the clock of the Musee d'Orsay peering down at passers by, his wings a different colour to his body and his eyes yellow it is not hard to recognize him. The history of these creatures flows through the underground of the Paris streets, behind the beautiful cultural feel to the City lies the secret of the Gargoyle, one that is being tried to be kept desperately. Out there to this day are the flying beasts but more importantly out there still is Rurluack.


The Flaming Ship

Prince Edward Island or P.E.I as it's known to the residents, is an eastern maritime province of Canada that lies off New Brunswick and ...