Hope Falls, U.S.A.
October 16, Present.
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The moon hung low in the sky over a small town called Hope falls, located north of the rockies. It sat just at the entrance of a huge valley surrounded by long, rolling hills and distant mountains. Hope falls is a very picturesque place, the kind of little town you might see on the back of a post card. It's not an overly large town, about 5 miles from one end to the other, but it is moderately populated with several thriving businesses and many new homes. In the far east corner of town there is a large victorian style church with a giant bell and high spires that curve up around it. Green grass grows throughout Hopefalls, but this time of year it turns a faded brown. Lining the many houses and small dwellings are white picket fences that seem to be connected entirely from one end of the town to the other. In the center is a park and a large lake with ducks and geese. It appears to be a very beautiful place to live…on the surface, but beneath the fresh coats of paint and spotless pavement lurked something dark and menacing.
At the west end of town is a cemetery, and behind it, the rural cemetery. This part of the cemetery has graves dating as far back as the mid 1700s. Most of the names on the oldest ones had word completely worn off, forgotten by time. No one visited that particular part of the cemetery. All the path ways through it had been over grown with vines and weeds. The grave keeper no longer maintains it and in all honesty, he is frightened to go back there. He feels the hair stand up on the back of his neck whenever he has to cross through it. It has an evil presents living within its ancient graves and crumbling crypts. Constant shadows are cast on even the sunniest days there, and any god fearing man -or women- would think twice before entering through its gates.
A wrath named Seth has made his home here, in the grave yard that time forgot, as it is the only place he can escape the populous. The only time he leaves is when he needs to feed or fulfill his other carnal needs. It has become a sanctuary for him. A place to hide from those that wish to bring his bloodlust to an end. For the past several years he has terrorized the small town of Hope falls, however he isn't the only one. There are many other beings that stake claim to this town. Often times, when they are not hunting the living, they are at war with each other; Fighting to gain complete control over the area.
As the moon peeked out behind some low lying clouds on this cold October night, The Wraith, Seth, sits a top an old tombstone. His hair hangs about his face in thick strands, almost completely covering his eyes. His skin is pale in complexion, but small peaks of red are visible just above his cheeks. He is dressed, as usual, in dark pants, a long black coat and a black scarf made of tightly woven fabric. He stars off into the night, he is hungry and needs to feed. It is almost midnight and the moment to strike will be soon. Seth could smell the weak and vulnerable miles away, and tonight the scent was strong. He slid his hand into is coat pocket and brought out a silver case containing some cigarillos. He took one out and placed it between his lips, biting the end slightly before striking a match. He pulled deeply and slowly, then inhaled, closing his eyes for just a moment before letting the smoke drift out if his mouth. It was a good night, and soon, Seth would have another Victim for his sick and twisted needs. Lately it seemed like a dam had broke, letting a rushing stream of dark thoughts fill his head. His time awake, from dusk till dawn, was more haunted than usual and his need to inflict pain was great. His last few victims were so torn up that the police had to turn to dental record to reveal their identities. Things were definitely getting more and more demented for an already demented mind.