Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Gomez" data-source="post: 1749519" data-attributes="member: 20204">January 16th, 1925New York City, New YorkJack Chance Jack Chance looks over a plate of over cooked bacon and runny eggs. "Well at least the coffee is hot." He thinks. Looking through the window of the run down cafe. He watches the busy morning traffic. Absentmindly he turned the page of the newpaper on the table. That's when it caught his eye. Quickly he folded the paper to get a better look at the story in the upper left corner. ................................................................................................... Noted Author found MurderedAn author several books concerning "death" cults met a grisly end last night at the hands of three knife wielding assailants. Jackson Elias was found dead in his hotel room by several people who he was supposed to meet that night. The assailants, 2 Negroes and a white man, fled the scene still carrying their bloody knives. Lt. Poole of the New York Police department stated that it was most likely just a random robbery gone bad. Though this reporter found out through sources in the coroner’s department that the body had been ritually mutilated including a strange symbol that was carved in the victim’s forehead.....................................................................................................Chance's head began to spin. Visions of Emily's body on that morgue slab stabbed into his brain. That hideous symbol carved into her head. It pulling his gaze to her once beautiful face. Not again.......not again........ That's when his life went into that slow tailspin. He had tried to find her killers. He had hit the streets with a vengeance. Calling in every debt and favor. And then....to awaken in a drunken stupor to that horrid dream of Emily standing over him, her guts hanging to the ground, that rotting symbol weeping pus on her forehead. But nothing was as terrible as her blue lips smiling at him and her whispered voice asking him for a kiss. He keep telling himself that it was a booze induced dream but deep inside he knew that it was real. Was it happening again? Jack read the rest of the story. Humm contact Prospero House Publishing for information on the funeral.</blockquote>

Verification