As Big Ben chimed twelve times for the start of the dreaded witching hour, down in the intense mist of which was suffocating me in a painful head lock, I was scrambling for food (yes ghosts need food too). Upon its deadly name burning forest (BF for short)…
I myself experienced the fateful torture in fifteen fifty six. The raging aroma of bodies, blood a d scary sights of burnt decayed skulls and ribs reminded me of the day I experienced the bloody stake which turned me into a ghost.
If being a ghost was bad, hearing the screeching skulls of London and Bloody Mary was worse. At that bloody second they gave a horrendous chase
“Screech!” The skulls wined, breaking the eerie silence that had developed over the land and sky.
Withered trees bent over like people to hide me…in the gloomy distance. I heard Mary calling out orders to the feared skulls.
I jumped like a dea man to the big city howling …I was safe or was I?
So I, Zane, escaped the first attack . Will I survive the next? It’s up to you…😲