The moon cast mysterious shadows across the bogs as Hamish McAllister scurried past the racks of drying fish towards the privy. The night was unseasonably chilly. Hoar frost tipped the blades of grass, and his shoes crunched with each hurried step. He reached the out building and ducked inside, eager to do his business so that he could get back to the fire and his warm bed.
An eerie sound outside suddenly made the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. His urine paused midstream as he listened hard, trying to discern what it was. A wolf, perhaps? He released his stream again, confident that that was what it was.
He finished just as a strong gust of wind blew right through the chinks in the wall. Another loud, piercing shriek outside made Hamish utter a cry of alarm. He stepped to one of the cracks and peered out from between the wooden boards. He would later swear that he saw a specter hovering right outside the privy. Terrified, he jerked away, his breath coming in quick bursts. Another gust of wind shook the building, making the boards creak so loudly that Hamish worried that it might break apart, leaving him standing out in the open, unprotected from the evil that lurked beyond. He closed his eyes and started praying.
Continue reading