SevenFather Stephen climbed over the heavy wooden gate, almost stumbling onto the grass on the other side. The wraiths and spirits had followed him to the edge of the forest. They kept their distance though. The silver cross in his hands kept them at bay as they twisted themselves around giant tree trunks, cursing the stranger as he fled the forest. His breathing was laboured, his pulse thumping between his ears as he made his way almost drunkenly towards a large building. He mounted the steps and crashed through the front door, landing on his knees in a low slung room. The night whinnied and whined behind him as he scrambled to his feet. He slammed the door shut, drawing a crude bar into place to keep out what wanted to get in. Jesus f*****g Christ. What have I stumbled across? It was all
