It was a dark, overcast night when the old man happened by our campfire, asking if we could spare a drink for a stranger. He sat amongst my friends and I that evening in that dark, silent clearing and began to tell us the story of a man…
The Obscure Man.
I remember to this day the blood chilled in my veins as he slowly told us the tale of that dreadful creature.
By the time he had finished telling his tale, I could swear we were being watched, that just the words of the old man had brought the subject of his story forth, summoned him somehow.
After he finished his drink, the old man said his farewells and left. I never saw him again. However something remained that night; some dark presence. And it has never left.
...and now I tell you the same tale the old man shared all those years ago.
The tale of The Obscure Man.