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    Legends of William's Point
    Legends of William's Point
    Legends of William's Point
    Ebook97 pages1 hour

    Legends of William's Point

    By M.D. Martin

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    About this ebook

    Welcome to William's Point, a small town nestled at the base of the Blue Ridge mountains. On the surface, it is the image of small town Americana. Quaint cobblestone streets are lined with ancient wrought iron fences and lush lawns. Landmarks like the General Armand house entice you sit on their wide cool verandas and enjoy a glass of iced tea. Peel back the exterior, however, and you will find the black blood that throbs just beneath it's surface. Here, hidden in the shaded hollows and forgotten cemeteries lurk the creatures of the wilds. They do not fear death, they stalk it. What better place to call home? After all, William's Point is itself a child of blood, born into it from the first day man sat foot upon it. This is where the real monsters come to play.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDark Hollows Press, LLC
    Release dateNov 4, 2015
    Legends of William's Point

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      Book preview

      Legends of William's Point - M.D. Martin

      LEGENDS OF WILLIAM’S POINT

      M.D. Martin

      Legends of William’s Point

      Copyright © 2015 M.D. Martin

      Published by Dark Hollows Press

      Smashwords Edition

      About the eBook You Have Purchased

      All rights reserved. Without reserving the rights under copyright, reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, is forbidden. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.

      Unauthorized reproduction of distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

      Legends of William’s Point

      Copyright © 2015 M.D. Martin

      ISBN 10: 1944054170

      ISBN 13: 978-1-944054-17-5

      Author: M.D. Martin

      Editor: Lili Booth

      Original Publication Date: November 2015

      All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by Dark Hollows Press

      Cover Design by E Connors

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

      All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

      Table of Contents

      The Hybrid

      Charred

      The House Where No One Lived

      The Gateway

      Hell Hounds

      Mad Herriot

      The Untimely Demise of Bethel Page

      One Small Bite

      Welcome to William’s Point. It’s a small town and there really isn’t much to look at but we seem to enjoy it here. Every summer we get busloads of blue-haired tourists with their flash bulbs and endless rolls of budget film so they can remember what a quaint little town this is.

      They like to sit on the verandas of my most famous landmark. A rambling one-hundred room plantation house that used to belong to General George Armand, one of the lesser-known Generals I assure you, but obscurity does not dissuade them. They flock to it like a smorgasbord. The plantation house was used to teach young girls how to become proper ladies, then became a cat house for a time. Those were the dark years when my faithful parishioners were turning from me and I was a Shepard without a flock.

      All traces of the cathouse are gone now and the lost sheep returned to the fold after the tragedy. It was Satan’s work, he had sent his minions among us and we prevailed after the dark hour.

      Those days are behind us now, no longer tarnishing our pristine reputation. The Armand house sits in stately splendor, a refuge to the weary traveler foolish enough to pay the exorbitant fees for lodging. Ah, but a fool and his money are soon parted.

      My manicured lawns and crisp white picket fences line the nostalgic cobblestone streets and the deep awning shaded store fronts. Patchwork quilts of bright poppies and marigold are interspersed with slender irises and flowing orchids decorating the planters and borders of my developed persona. I am the spirit of small town Americana with children riding bicycles and carrying sparklers on the Fourth of July. I am baseball and apple pie with a stagnant blackened blood that runs beneath my surface.

      I hide my backwoods dusty faced miscreants and their quiet superstitions. My faults are wrapped in a thin veil of kindness, of neighborly concern and I lie to you with my superfluous charm and southern grace. I keep my secrets in my dense forests and hollows far from the light of your reasoning where my terrors will squeeze the life from you. I have given these places to my children, the ones no one can understand, and the ones no one will look upon. I listen to the others in this dark place, the ones that are unnatural. They are not of my blood but I love them as if they were my own. I fear them; I respect them.

      These creatures of the night with their beautiful tragic fallen angel faces and glistening fangs that take only what they need. Creatures of the wilds, they live in the shadows save for some that are not afraid of what they truly are. They do not fear death instead they stalk it, they are freedom.

      Already I hear their silent whispers echoing on the warm wind of encroaching darkness and I know that the time has come for me to bid you ado. It has been such a long time since I have heard their promising sighs and now I think I shall give in to their seduction and allow them to come into my own heart. Why not? I am, after all, a child of blood myself, born into it from the first day man set foot upon me.

      The Hybrid

      Have you ever tasted blood? I mean really tasted blood. Have you ever had a hunger so insatiable or a thirst so unquenchable that no amount of food or wine could fulfill it? Blood, the ruby nectar of life that is so precious to so many. It is a rare commodity to find the purest of the pure and a treasure that I value with my life. Now before you think I am a vampire because of my appetites I must tell you that I do not belong to that illustrious sect, regretfully. I belong neither to the immortals nor to the normal living beings, the ones that crawl along the freeways in their chrome and glass sarcophagi. I belong to a group consisting mainly of myself. I am sure that there are others like me but I am unaware of them at this time.

      I am in turn savage and gentle. I have been called evil by those that are narrow-minded and do not understand me or my existence. I have been viewed as a scientific miracle and monstrosity by educated men and women. My family has ostracized me since the tender age of four when my mother and father first realized that I was different. Instead of playing with other children, I stayed to myself and became obsessed with the basic rules of nature between the hunter and the hunted. I often wandered off into the woods behind our house and watched for hours on end as snakes swallowed small field mice and the spiders crawled on their nimble legs toward the trapped and panicking flies that were silly enough to stumble into their sticky lair.

      To look at me you wouldn’t know of my, shall we say, unusual appetites. You could pass me in a store, the school hallway, on the street and never know

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