The Doom Of The Hollow - Extra content
The Jumble - Wednesday 18th November, Doomsday
Cont.
He turned to look behind him and found himself staring deep into the dark sunken eyes of a tall, dark skinned figure. Its fingers were rolling, its mouth uttering the one word over and over.
“Conventaroo, conventaroo.”
In pure terror, Mason, fell backwards. The creature took a step closer to him. On all fours, he started to back away from the threatening figure.
“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.” Mason’s voice trembled in fear. “Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray.” He felt a power resurge his voice and he began to bellow the prayer. “And do thou, Oh Prince of the Heavenly Host, by God’s power, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander the world seeking the ruin of souls.”
The figure continued to creep closer, its long, sharp fingers raised. Mason could not back away any more. He thought he had reached the legs of a table or a chair, but as he looked behind him, the tall, slender figure of a second figure loomed over his frame, its fingers poised, its lament synchronised with the creature approaching him. Before he could finish saying ‘amen’, the second creature thrust its fingers into his face.
“Conventaroo, conventaroo.”
The devil had come for him. Doomsday had arrived in the shape of the Hollow. All of his prayers, his faith, his devotion to God could not stop the creature from draining away his life.
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"I was actually beginning to feel scared with that tense heavy stomach feeling and raised heart rate.”
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