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''This tale has to be brief. I need to run soon. I can't stay on this cursed land any longer. This has been happening for way too long, ever since my ancestors moved here in the middle ages. And I'm all that is left now.''
   
  +
''So, on to the tale.''
   
  +
I always used to be sung a song by mother which has been passed down from her mother and so on. I remember it well but back then I didn't know anything about it. It was just a song, after all. We lived on our peaceful life here in our manor, which is just as old as the song my mother used to sing. No one was let in or out of here, apart from the vital occasion, and when the time came when mother passed away in the 40's, I was left alone and only had the song to remember her by. I sang the tune in my head at night and I was in a tragic state. I was alone in the manor. No one gets in, No one gets out, that's how it works here. The manor itself though, had every window, every hatch, every door locked, pinned and bolted and I didn't know why then, I had no clue. Its age never helped the manor either, cobwebs were everywhere, many of the rooms were empty and the conditions were poor. But I grew used to it.
   
  +
Sorry for all of that extra information about us, but it sets up this tale well. My Auntie moved in with her one year-old since she didn't want me to stay alone. At the same time I knew she didn't want to come here. I could tell by her expressions that she was scared, and every time I sang the song, she would panic and check the windows in fear. I hated to upset her, so I never did it again. She was always upstairs, cleaning or something. I never got the chance to see, since I was always busy looking after the child. It was not a problem, he was cute (the baby) and had big eyes that were impossible not to love. But he was so unaware of the world, unaware of the house's features. Poor thing. It lived so happily in such an unhappy, lonely place. I remember the last time me and him spoke. I sang:
January 12th 1956: I... I'm here, writing this, because I need to get something out. A.. story - A tale. Now, to be honest, I have never remembered every last detail. But I'll try and fit in as much as I can about it. Well now I think about it, It's no tale or fantasy, It's a warning, A warning.
 
   
 
<poem>"Said my lord to his lady as he mounted his horse:
 
'Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the moss'
 
Said my lord to his lady as he rode away:
 
'Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay.'"</poem>
   
  +
It sounded familiar. It was the song mother sang. She said it was a tale about our great-great grandfather, but I never believed her at all. At this point, I was shaking with fear. Father had just left to travel to London to sign up for the army at that point and I remember when mother said her goodbyes at the path leading from the manor. I placed the child in the cradle and looked at him. He was fast asleep and coughing. I thought he must of gotten ill, so I told auntie to call the nurse to come over. When she did arrive, she just appeared. No one knew how she got in without a sound, but at least she was here. She was pretty and very slim, but she appeared to be tired... she might have been having an excruciatingly long day, being a nurse and all. She told us to just carry on feeding him food and give him lots of rest.
I'm going to be as brief as I need to be. Simply, my Grandfather was a Coal Miner until 1923 and let's just say, He's no longer breathing. I.. I knew, everyone knew, he was going to leave. Slowly he was dying and we couldn't do anything about it. The standard of the mines were poor and many of the toxic underground fumes must have gotten to him. I hate to go into more detail, I'm pushed for time. Around a day and a half before he left, Me and mother stayed at his side, wishing him well. But, He didn't help. He sang out of all things, sang a song. I never heard it before and from the look on mothers face, she had. She seemed shocked and looked at me, Nothing worth living for in her. I never remembered the song after that day, but I do now. I was too small to understand, until I was 17. The same scene happened except, I was the only one by the bed, Over watching mother and father had gone to work for the army forces in London. And she sang a song, the same song. Word for Word. Too this day, I remember them too, after 10 years:
 
   
  +
I knew what to do.
Said my lord to my lady, as he mounted his horse:
 
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the moss."
 
   
  +
I found the smallest window, the most insignificant of them all and ripped it open with my hands, blood sliding through my palms. I got out and ran for the old hill. I ran, mainly for the reason all seemed to familiar to me, like something on replay, and I couldn't stand seeing such a small child suffering like my mother had before she died. I reached the hill (of course) and lay on its walls. I breathed slow but sharp, I was happy to have gotten away from the house. At that moment I swear I saw something move, just in the corner of my eye, near the fort at the very top of the hill. I turned to it and all I could see was a dark figure of a man with his back to me, looking over the hill. But I couldn't tell, since it was so bright whether he was looking or not. I rested, I needed it. I didn't go sleep, but It seemed like it, saying how fast time went. But I sang to pass the time, I sang the melody:
Said my lord to my lady, as he rode away:
 
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay.
 
 
I never knew how she died but, she is gone now. Our family were going slowly. They have been for 100's of years, leaving the next to die like they did. After my mother died, I was left alone in the manor. It was big and fancy at one point, but no one looked after it, No light came in apart from the ones in the hinges, and nothing would open. I was never surprised at how badly treated it was, I suppose my senses only Just realised the standards of living. Back to the point, I wasn't alone for long, My aunties old baby and her dropped themselves off, she probably thought I was irresponsible but I don't care. Auntie was always one to be bust and I had to look after her baby a lot of the time. Her baby grew sick too, but auntie knew better. She called out a local nurse to come inside and help her baby. The nurse arrived and was let in fast. I didn't even hear a door or a footstep before the moment she arrived. She said all we must do is feed the child food and eventually after she left we ran out of food eventually to keep the baby happy, so I gathered on myself to step out and buy some bread for 50 pence. But just like the dead, no one wanted the doors open. I suggested the window, even though it may of ripped my dress, but no. Bolted.There was no way out and I knew why, I eventually knew why and then I sang:
 
 
"Let the doors be all bolted and the windows all pinned,
 
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in."
 
   
 
<poem>"'Let the doors all be bolted and the windows all pinned,
 
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in.'
 
So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
 
So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
And he was in fair London before the break of day.
+
And he was in fair London for the break of day.
 
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned, 
 
except one little window where Long Lankin crept in
 
'Where's the lord of this house?' said Long Lankin
 
'He's away in fair London' Said the false nurse to him.
 
'Where's the little heir of this house?' said Long Lankin
 
'He's asleep in his cradle' Said the false nurse to him.
 
'We'll prick him, We'll prick him all over with a pin,
 
And that will make my lady come down to him.'
 
So he pricked him, pricked him all over with a pin,
 
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in."</poem>
   
  +
I opened my eyes wide and peered over to the direction of the manor. It was dark and I could hardly see it, but I knew it was there and then I got up and looked behind me. The man was gone. I ran back to the manor and trust me, I soon realised how stupid it was to run away from it, but to run back was worse. I was safer here in the middle of nowhere. I got there and crawled through the window I smashed through. I slipped and landed on the glass on the inside and I could have screamed but I didn't, for the baby's sake. I got up, and noticed my hands were blood-soaked. I fell back again in horror. All I could see was blood everywhere, all on the walls and all in the halls and all on the floor and all dripping out.. from a basin. I fell back in sheer shock and just couldn't look away, even when I tried. I heard a noise from upstairs and ran as quick as I could. I tried opening every door, one after the other, but all were locked except one, this one was wide open and the door had a giant hole in it going from the top to the bottom in a straight line, like a slash. I went in. And I cried. God, how I cried! I... I could just see auntie in the corner of the room. Sliced in two and more blood covering the areas where she had struggled. It was horrible. I went to her side to say any prayers but to make all this worse... she.. she was still breathing... She was not in two completely, many chords or organs still connected the two.
I shook, Fuck, how I shook. I realised why I was locked in. But it was stupid. When something is locked, something can come in and nothing can get out. I had to escape. I packed nothing, not even my change of clothes, and ran. I wasn't coming back. I ripped the nails from the wooded windows and with blood over my hands I escaped. And for nightfall, I reached the old hill, leaving Auntie and her child unaware. I slept and cried, leaning against the hills old banks, looking back at the manor, breathing heavy but sharp. I calmed and without knowing sang:
 
   
  +
"What did he do?" I cried and she just looked in to deep space.
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned,
 
Except one little window where Long Lankin crept in.
 
   
  +
"Answer me! God, save you! Answer me auntie!" I cried out and then she looked at me and stopped like she had a power cut. She was gone. Me and the baby, we are still there. I ran down to the cradle at the bottom of the stairs.
"Where's the lord of this house?" Said Long Lankin,
 
"He's away in fair London." said the false nurse to him.
 
"Where's the little heir of this house ?" said Long Lankin.
 
"He's asleep in his cradle," said the false nurse to him.
 
   
 
My lady came down. She was thinking no harm,
"We'll prick him, we'll prick him all over with a pin,
 
And that'll make my lady to come down to him.'
 
   
 
Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.
So he pricked him, he pricked him all over with a pin,
 
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in.
 
   
  +
I got to the bottom of the stairs and seen the cradle. But I didn't want to look in it, since all I seen on the floor was an arm and the cradle was packed to the brim with blood, with small trickles falling off when it needs to. I cried and fell back against the wall. I cried way too much.. I grew a headache somehow and then ''it'' happened. I always call it ''it'' when I tell this tale, and I have a good reason. It's the reason I am writing this altogether in the first place since when I was leaning on that wall next to the old staircase. I seen ''it.'' Crawling up the wall on the other side of the stairs, its head twisted back, looking at me. It had some... I can't pronounce how horrifying this thing was... It had hair going down its back and its skin was totally black also... Its face...Oh God... I have got a drawing of it somewhere but... I would hate to go into more detail... I will give you the drawing. It moved slowly down the wall and then got onto all fours on the ground... It was very slim... easy to miss in the night but luckily the doors hinges let through some light. But I knew where ''it'' was anyway, I could see its eyes. I stood there in shock staring at it, and, before that, I'm going to call 'It' 'him' now, since he is.
I stopped. It was stupid, but I had to go back. The song was right. So I ran, How I ran... It was quick but my dress didn't help. I reached the manor. A basin lay on the floor with blood pouring out of it. And all over the walls, the same. I fell back crying again. I did that, I opened the window, I opened the window. I killed everyone... and at that point I heard choking coming from upstairs. I ran with all I could, trust me. I was scared. I ran up to the each room, and all were locked. Until I found one, but by then the gurgles had stopped. So did I in shock. The baby lay in the sink, blood up to the rim, with one prick in its neck, with one line of blood. And blood everywhere, all on the walls, all on the floor, and In the bath, auntie with slits in her wrists. I lost vision but I had to keep myself together and I did, breathing nice and slow.
 
   
  +
As I was saying, He stood back and turned around and vanished. Catching my breath I ran to the door and picked up the axe leaning on the wall next to it. I was not going to kill Lankin, I wasn't even thinking about trying, he would just vanish anyway. I hit the door once, then twice, then for the third time and then It crashed open. I seen Lankin again as a slim man standing on the hill, just like before, through the window. I ran to the next door but I was exhausted, I didn't even try opening it. My time was up. I heard a snarl and turned around but I then turned back in pain and shock onto the floor. I was screaming for my life. Lankin had got me this time, and was dragging me back the way I came. He sliced two slits down back, ripping my dress, and when I was just about through the door, he let go. I cried hopelessly. I still can't say how terrible I felt at that point, a few minutes ago. And here I am, fighting for my last breath, flinching at every shadow cast upon these halls, laying on the floor in my own blood. I... I don't know the rest of this tale anymore... But I hope it's near the end...
   
  +
So father, I hope you will soon return here. I have left you this book to tell you about this affair and I need you to fix it all. I only have a few points of advise but do take them... Lankin is forgiving but Is not at the same time. Just pray to god he doesn't hold on for too long... I don't want to know what else he can do but he has driven me insane farther. He is hanging on the gibbet on the hill now but he is not dead.. trust me please. He will haunt whoever lives in this manor and will hunt them down... He will never stop. Don't attack him, He is ever-present, he looks weak, like he can snap in two just like aunt- never mind.. My tears are already filling this page and rubbing the ink... I hope you end it. I love you. I love you with all my heart, don't forget that.. who would have thought I would die before I get to see you again... I... I'm going now... I will be on the turret, that is where I am now. Do you remember the song mother sang? Listen to it. It should guide you with ease, It's just Lankin and your own sanity that is the challenge. Except in the song the Maiden lives to tell the Lord, And right now... I'm the Maiden... and in that draw over there where I got this book, Is a magnum. It has one shot and I should use it for my own good, for myself. Bye. I love you.<br />
I said slowly 'That Bastard Lankin and his fucking nu-' and I stopped for the hundredth time that day. I could see it out the window watching. It was a woman sitting on the hill, sulking in her hands. I ran again. I knew who she was. It was the false nurse. And then I remembered, Auntie obviously new I ran and blocked up the windows eve tighter, and the way I got in was now blocked by a cabinet I fell on in shock when I entered. I was trapped even worse than before.. And I had no hope.I ran down to the bottom of the stairs, and then stumbled to the front room. I would have never thought so much blood would have got in here...
 
  +
Elizabeth  x x x 
   
 
<poem>Here's blood in the Kitchen. Here's blood in the hall,
My lady came down, she was thinking no harm
 
 
Here's blood in the parlour where the Lady did fall.
Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.
 
   
 
Her maiden looked out from the turret so high,
Here's blood in the kitchen. Here's blood in the hall
 
 
And she saw her master from London riding by
Here's blood in the parlour where my lady did fall.
 
   
 
'O Master, O Master, don't lay the blame on me,
I led myself out of the room after 5 minutes, I was confused. I didn't know where tog go or what to do but I had to do something, found out who Lankin is. I knew where to go. I went to the room where Mother died and sat beside her body and Grandfathers. We never let there bodies out, they obviously were never thrown out, but then again there's no door to throw them out of. I cried and then rested, I needed it. I then heard the baby, I swear I heard it, so I got up and what I saw... what I saw, It... It was horrible. I.. It was the reason I am writing this. It was Him, The blood crazy killer who killed everyone who ever lived here or forced them to dispose of themselves. But 'he' was not a 'he'. Bullshit! 'he' was not even human. He... was a slim figure, and was skinned black. and his eyes were hollowed, It was like you could see right through them and he walked like an insect up and down walls but he had the legs and arms of a person. His hands were long with only two fingers with claws at each end but his god-damned face was... It was hard to explain... Picture a face of pure hate, pure evil and pure innocence at the same time. At that moment, I stood there and 'he' stood back until he was gone in an instant. I was shaking like mad and I made a break for the door and he appeared again and sliced my back with two slits. I screamed and fell and grabbed what I could while being dragged backwards the way I came. I grabbed the nearest pan and threw it at him but it was no use... But he vanished and I lay bleeding. I knew I was going to die. I know I am going to die. Because here I am now, lying here bleeding, writing in this book left in the draw that was wide open, because I want father to know and come back here, and end Lankin too. But lankin is long gone... But he will be back... he may have gone to take someone else... I don't know. But I have soon made my way to the turret and looking towards London.... Father will come.. Just not before I die.And, there on the hill is Lankin. Hanging from a tree... as a person. I'm still not sue if it was him but I feel like its always been there.
 
 
Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady'
   
 
Long Lankin was hung on a Gibbet so high,
So father, I love you. I love you as much as anything now. Everything is gone but you and me, but Just you soon. Find out were Lankin has gone, He is still here but whatever  you do, keep the windows closed and the doors locked. My tears are already on this paper... I love you. Elizabeth x
 
 
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.
   
  +
But for the lords and maidens that live here,
Her maiden looked out from the turret so high
 
  +
forever they may live there lives in fear.</poem>
And she saw her master from London riding by.
 
   
  +
This story is based on a real poem from hundreds of years ago. The last two lines of the poem I added but the rest is legit. Except the fact that there are many different variations of Lankin. Lambkin being one. Remember, He will always haunt who ever sets foot on his land...
"O master, O master, don't lay the blame on me
 
'Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady."
 
   
  +
{{by|user=yes|ArmedCat}}
Long Lankin was hung on a gibbet so high
 
 
[[Category:Beings]]
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.
 
[[Category:Shock Ending]]
+
[[Category:Music]]
[[Category:Monsters]]
 
[[Category:Demon/Devil]]
 

Latest revision as of 00:46, 20 November 2016

This tale has to be brief. I need to run soon. I can't stay on this cursed land any longer. This has been happening for way too long, ever since my ancestors moved here in the middle ages. And I'm all that is left now.

So, on to the tale.

I always used to be sung a song by mother which has been passed down from her mother and so on. I remember it well but back then I didn't know anything about it. It was just a song, after all. We lived on our peaceful life here in our manor, which is just as old as the song my mother used to sing. No one was let in or out of here, apart from the vital occasion, and when the time came when mother passed away in the 40's, I was left alone and only had the song to remember her by. I sang the tune in my head at night and I was in a tragic state. I was alone in the manor. No one gets in, No one gets out, that's how it works here. The manor itself though, had every window, every hatch, every door locked, pinned and bolted and I didn't know why then, I had no clue. Its age never helped the manor either, cobwebs were everywhere, many of the rooms were empty and the conditions were poor. But I grew used to it.

Sorry for all of that extra information about us, but it sets up this tale well. My Auntie moved in with her one year-old since she didn't want me to stay alone. At the same time I knew she didn't want to come here. I could tell by her expressions that she was scared, and every time I sang the song, she would panic and check the windows in fear. I hated to upset her, so I never did it again. She was always upstairs, cleaning or something. I never got the chance to see, since I was always busy looking after the child. It was not a problem, he was cute (the baby) and had big eyes that were impossible not to love. But he was so unaware of the world, unaware of the house's features. Poor thing. It lived so happily in such an unhappy, lonely place. I remember the last time me and him spoke. I sang:

"Said my lord to his lady as he mounted his horse:
'Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the moss'
Said my lord to his lady as he rode away:
'Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay.'"

It sounded familiar. It was the song mother sang. She said it was a tale about our great-great grandfather, but I never believed her at all. At this point, I was shaking with fear. Father had just left to travel to London to sign up for the army at that point and I remember when mother said her goodbyes at the path leading from the manor. I placed the child in the cradle and looked at him. He was fast asleep and coughing. I thought he must of gotten ill, so I told auntie to call the nurse to come over. When she did arrive, she just appeared. No one knew how she got in without a sound, but at least she was here. She was pretty and very slim, but she appeared to be tired... she might have been having an excruciatingly long day, being a nurse and all. She told us to just carry on feeding him food and give him lots of rest.

I knew what to do.

I found the smallest window, the most insignificant of them all and ripped it open with my hands, blood sliding through my palms. I got out and ran for the old hill. I ran, mainly for the reason all seemed to familiar to me, like something on replay, and I couldn't stand seeing such a small child suffering like my mother had before she died. I reached the hill (of course) and lay on its walls. I breathed slow but sharp, I was happy to have gotten away from the house. At that moment I swear I saw something move, just in the corner of my eye, near the fort at the very top of the hill. I turned to it and all I could see was a dark figure of a man with his back to me, looking over the hill. But I couldn't tell, since it was so bright whether he was looking or not. I rested, I needed it. I didn't go sleep, but It seemed like it, saying how fast time went. But I sang to pass the time, I sang the melody:

"'Let the doors all be bolted and the windows all pinned,
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in.'
So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
And he was in fair London for the break of day.
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned, 
except one little window where Long Lankin crept in
'Where's the lord of this house?' said Long Lankin
'He's away in fair London' Said the false nurse to him.
'Where's the little heir of this house?' said Long Lankin
'He's asleep in his cradle' Said the false nurse to him.
'We'll prick him, We'll prick him all over with a pin,
And that will make my lady come down to him.'
So he pricked him, pricked him all over with a pin,
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in."

I opened my eyes wide and peered over to the direction of the manor. It was dark and I could hardly see it, but I knew it was there and then I got up and looked behind me. The man was gone. I ran back to the manor and trust me, I soon realised how stupid it was to run away from it, but to run back was worse. I was safer here in the middle of nowhere. I got there and crawled through the window I smashed through. I slipped and landed on the glass on the inside and I could have screamed but I didn't, for the baby's sake. I got up, and noticed my hands were blood-soaked. I fell back again in horror. All I could see was blood everywhere, all on the walls and all in the halls and all on the floor and all dripping out.. from a basin. I fell back in sheer shock and just couldn't look away, even when I tried. I heard a noise from upstairs and ran as quick as I could. I tried opening every door, one after the other, but all were locked except one, this one was wide open and the door had a giant hole in it going from the top to the bottom in a straight line, like a slash. I went in. And I cried. God, how I cried! I... I could just see auntie in the corner of the room. Sliced in two and more blood covering the areas where she had struggled. It was horrible. I went to her side to say any prayers but to make all this worse... she.. she was still breathing... She was not in two completely, many chords or organs still connected the two.

"What did he do?" I cried and she just looked in to deep space.

"Answer me! God, save you! Answer me auntie!" I cried out and then she looked at me and stopped like she had a power cut. She was gone. Me and the baby, we are still there. I ran down to the cradle at the bottom of the stairs.

My lady came down. She was thinking no harm,

Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.

I got to the bottom of the stairs and seen the cradle. But I didn't want to look in it, since all I seen on the floor was an arm and the cradle was packed to the brim with blood, with small trickles falling off when it needs to. I cried and fell back against the wall. I cried way too much.. I grew a headache somehow and then it happened. I always call it it when I tell this tale, and I have a good reason. It's the reason I am writing this altogether in the first place since when I was leaning on that wall next to the old staircase. I seen it. Crawling up the wall on the other side of the stairs, its head twisted back, looking at me. It had some... I can't pronounce how horrifying this thing was... It had hair going down its back and its skin was totally black also... Its face...Oh God... I have got a drawing of it somewhere but... I would hate to go into more detail... I will give you the drawing. It moved slowly down the wall and then got onto all fours on the ground... It was very slim... easy to miss in the night but luckily the doors hinges let through some light. But I knew where it was anyway, I could see its eyes. I stood there in shock staring at it, and, before that, I'm going to call 'It' 'him' now, since he is.

As I was saying, He stood back and turned around and vanished. Catching my breath I ran to the door and picked up the axe leaning on the wall next to it. I was not going to kill Lankin, I wasn't even thinking about trying, he would just vanish anyway. I hit the door once, then twice, then for the third time and then It crashed open. I seen Lankin again as a slim man standing on the hill, just like before, through the window. I ran to the next door but I was exhausted, I didn't even try opening it. My time was up. I heard a snarl and turned around but I then turned back in pain and shock onto the floor. I was screaming for my life. Lankin had got me this time, and was dragging me back the way I came. He sliced two slits down back, ripping my dress, and when I was just about through the door, he let go. I cried hopelessly. I still can't say how terrible I felt at that point, a few minutes ago. And here I am, fighting for my last breath, flinching at every shadow cast upon these halls, laying on the floor in my own blood. I... I don't know the rest of this tale anymore... But I hope it's near the end...

So father, I hope you will soon return here. I have left you this book to tell you about this affair and I need you to fix it all. I only have a few points of advise but do take them... Lankin is forgiving but Is not at the same time. Just pray to god he doesn't hold on for too long... I don't want to know what else he can do but he has driven me insane farther. He is hanging on the gibbet on the hill now but he is not dead.. trust me please. He will haunt whoever lives in this manor and will hunt them down... He will never stop. Don't attack him, He is ever-present, he looks weak, like he can snap in two just like aunt- never mind.. My tears are already filling this page and rubbing the ink... I hope you end it. I love you. I love you with all my heart, don't forget that.. who would have thought I would die before I get to see you again... I... I'm going now... I will be on the turret, that is where I am now. Do you remember the song mother sang? Listen to it. It should guide you with ease, It's just Lankin and your own sanity that is the challenge. Except in the song the Maiden lives to tell the Lord, And right now... I'm the Maiden... and in that draw over there where I got this book, Is a magnum. It has one shot and I should use it for my own good, for myself. Bye. I love you.
Elizabeth  x x x 

Here's blood in the Kitchen. Here's blood in the hall,
Here's blood in the parlour where the Lady did fall.

Her maiden looked out from the turret so high,
And she saw her master from London riding by

'O Master, O Master, don't lay the blame on me,
Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady'

Long Lankin was hung on a Gibbet so high,
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.

But for the lords and maidens that live here,
forever they may live there lives in fear.

This story is based on a real poem from hundreds of years ago. The last two lines of the poem I added but the rest is legit. Except the fact that there are many different variations of Lankin. Lambkin being one. Remember, He will always haunt who ever sets foot on his land...



Written by ArmedCat 
Content is available under CC BY-SA