The Brank of Khosadam

"Alas, the tale I share with you tonight is not a pleasant one. Indeed, I almost think it too disturbing. Yet perhaps it would do me some good to recount it, if only to make sense of it, for surely I have not been able to do so."
None of us spoke. In truth, many of Uncle Geoffrey's tales were not pleasant. I supposed that when one spent time abroad, there were as many chances of seeing the incredible as there were the accursed.
"I ventured this time out to the Eastern parts of Europe. To the Slavic states where the woods grow thick and branches hang like crooked fingers. Villages lie few and far between while the natives remain terribly distrusting of strangers. Fortunately, or indeed unfortunately as the case may bear itself out, my penchant for obscure tongues enabled me to gain the confidence of the peoples I encountered.
"Kilgore and I began in Budapest but traveled immediately east, passing into Romania and the Carpathian mountains. There, it was my intention to come into possession of an item of antiquity that has long held my interest."

A tale of supernatural mythology told in a classic sitting room style where an adventurer goes looking for an ancient relic and finds much more than he bargained for.


Genre: Horror