Underground Secrets.

The rain pelted loudly on the windshield of the old ford F150. The red now faded, crumbled off in rusty chunks as it clunked and clanged down the old, dirt road.The driver, an old man and his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Dungham, deemed as the town’s crazies, were only in their mid 50s, yet looked to be about 100. They never talked to anyone and never had any type of expression on their face. If zombies existed, they would be the first noticeable ones. They always had the same old ripped up farm clothes on, and when they entered the room, their scent cleared the whole house. But that wasn’t what had the town afraid of them. Rumors of killings and hauntings were surrounding Jim Dungham, and strange child abductions and strange magic surrounded Susan Dungham. They were multi billionaires but yet lived in an old rundown farmhouse. The 1730s house claimed to hold dark secrets of an old evil that, once released, would then bring death to anyone that would enter the property. But yet Jim and Susan seemed to do just fine there. As they drove down the road Jim and Susan were quiet. Neither one spoke a word. They both were in deep thought about their day. Susan looked back into the bed of the truck. Blood was everywhere. She sighed as she thought about what lay in 37 garbage bags. Her face became suddenly pale as she realized she had six more hours till midnight. Jim looked at her and shook his head. His wife was a worry wart. When feeding time came close, she always would panic. The sun started to set on the old rugged mountains of the Adarondacks. Jim knew that soon, they would be strengthened again and they would be good until the next blood moon.It was now only six thirty, five and a half hours seemed like an eternity. The rain started to lighten up and the sky started to turn dark colors. They both sighed as their senses opened up.The air had an evil scent to it. They knew tonight that it would definitely be good hunting tonight.

Back in the city, a new stranger was pulling in at a run down motel. His dark hair glistened in the setting sun. He was about a hair shy from being six feet tall. His eyes were dark and filled with hate and confusion. He looked like any regular guy, but when people came around him, they got a strange feeling of peace and hope. He sighed as he pulled to a stop in the parking lot. In just a few hours the hunting would start. He hated huntings. He looked over at the dashboard and shook his head as he glanced over at a blood stained picture of a young lady with golden hair. That was his wife. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he lost her. But in reality it was just last hunting season that another great evil had killed her and his newborn son. After that, he sold his house and all his belongings but a few changes of clothes and his equipment. Now he was just a roadrunner. Hunting where he could. As he exited his old, beat up honda civic, that old lonely feeling flooded him again. He figured he better hurry and check in and get settled in his room. His old watch read eight o’clock. He had four hours until the battle for life would start. But he wasn’t afraid. He knew what had awaited him. The same danger that haunted his every hunting. And he always won.