Prolouge
It was 7:00 Britain eastern time. It was the summer,so the sun still shone. However the rain of that day manifested in clouds and lit up the forest with a phantom-like blueish glow. It was twilight,it was no more day than it was night. It gave the forest a haunted feeling as if someone was trapped in it. A soul from so long ago manifested in dense woodland. Stories about the forest's supposed link between the human realm and the dead had been fodder for horror stories for decades. But as most children grew older,they realized that the stories of goblins and demons within the woods were likely cautious parents trying to deter children from there,as the area was far from any supervision and full of all sorts of dangerous animals and creatures. That was what the town of Gloverstein was known for. Not their German town or beautiful Gothic style church,but their so called haunted Forrest. The forest had of course lost its haunted nature after the town realized the potential for hunting tourism. The woods were home to the thousands of boar,pheasants,deer,rabbit,and mink. The diverse ecosystem was popular for everyone. From retirees spending their time in their cabins,to farmers getting meat for the family,to posh trophy hunters,to people in the fur business. Its location next to a grassland also made it popular for the agriculture business. As it had been for centuries. The town had been settled by German immigrants. The neighboring town had given the land to the immigrants in 1733. Since then,it has been a town dominated by agriculture. However the bustling downtown is still a very important part of the city. But I have yet to mention the town's most famous resident. Augustus Kuhler. He was born in 1790,on the Kuhler pig farm near the forest. He grew up spending his days taking care of his mothers garden and hunting in the forest. As he grew,so did his home town. And his farm made his family quite wealthy. When his father died in 1814,the far was left to him and his family,under the condition he would keep it up and care for his elderly mother. He fulfilled his fathers wishes and the farm continued to grow and grow. Eventually opening up their own butcher in town. But no matter what wealth or glory is accumulated,fate will always happen. In 1826,on his son's 18th birthday they took a hunting trip into the woods. They had killed several pheasants when they started to head to the farm. On their way back,Augustus spotted a boar. Yet it wasn't any old boar,it was the true creme of the crop. It was twice the size of any human he had ever seen. It tusks the size of his hand. And its pupils are a beautiful red likened to burning embers. It was truly the most magnificent creature he had ever beset his eyes upon. The thought of the creature made into bacon,ham,roasts,sausages,and the succulent juicy chops excited him. The boars head mounted in his study. The hide made into boots. The hair made into a nice hunting coat.These thoughts bounced through his head and excited him.He walked closer to the beast,musket in toe. As he walked slowly across the forest floor to the hog,he started taking aim to the things heart. Yet something would seal his fate as a legend in that town. A fatal mistake. As he picked up his foot in his pig skin boot and placed it on the ground,a snap was heard. He lifted his foot. A twig, snapped in half,set within the imprint of his foot in the dirt. The hog looked up at him and they locked eyes. While the creature seemed calm,he saw its eyes. He had seen the eyes of hundreds of pigs. He knew the only thing behind those eyes was malice. He dropped his weapon out of fear. He was petrified. Not a sound from his mouth. No movement in his muscles. After what felt like an eternity,the boar charged. His son dropped his fowl and shot the hog. But it did not stop it. It was only angrier. The beast chased Augustus through the woods. The last thing his son heard of him was a shot and a horrid squeal. The creature had been killed,and the battle won. Yet no matter how long or how hard the family looked,they found nothing yet the wild hog and the pig skin boots. His disappearance was a local legend. And every year it was a dare among the town kids to go into the forest on Halloween. They came back alive yet many reported hearing a grizzled old man shouting at them. But for all intensive purposes the man was dead. He had been missing for almost 200 years. Speculation about his death was rampant in the town of Gloverstein. Some thought that perhaps he died of blood loss after the boar punctured his arm. Others thought perhaps maybe he had left his wife and children and ran away to Scotland. But for most towns people they believe he is still in the forest. As for the farm,it has stayed in the family ever since it was started. It has become the town's pride and joy,as it produces most of the Pork eaten in northern England. While his descendants still own the farm,they've realized that in this modern day quantity should always be over quality. And as you shall see later in the story,not much is thought of the animals. But back to the starting point of this book. 7:00 P.M. Eastern British time. It was Halloween night. This would be no normal Halloween. This would always be remembered in the town of Gloverstein.
