Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
No one dreamed them up. No one needed to. The vampire clawing at the window, the werewolf prowling the moor, the hags at the crossroads _ they lurked here already. Some nightmares are ancient, as old as civilization. Some are older still.
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No one dreamed them up. No one needed to. The vampire clawing at the window, the werewolf prowling the moor, the hags at the crossroads _ they lurked here already. Some nightmares are ancient, as old as civilization. Some are older still.
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