Arrow Lake the pariah

there was a stunning golden presence nearby that was difficult to miss against the light of the shimmering waters. of course, with his inkjet coat and his sunken eyes, the ghoul did well to make himself hidden. it was as though the devil had blessed him with such a coat for that very reason. to hide in the darkness of the world was a skill and a treat so few were able to experience. what a divine blessing that he should know the pleasures of seclusion in the night. 

it was often wasted.

the ghoul made move to sink his greasy paws into the waters of the lake so that it lapped against his ankles. he cared not for the sound that it made, for as the chilling touch of the water brushed against his flesh, the reaper unhinged his jaw and drew in a sickly sounding drag of air. it hinged on every pasty glob of blood and slobber that had formed in his cavernous mouth. the noise was something akin to suction through a tube laced in slime. the wraith was astonished that the waters should be so cold. he knew hell to only be a place of misery.