DARK WALKER OF THE PLAINS: THE RIDERS OF THE STORM BOOK ONE

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Chapter #1: The Demon Cometh

Black boots bearing mystic runes burning with crimson flame, singe the grass growing across the trail, as the walker entered the plains.

This Walker of the plains, a nerve wrecking sight to behold. For it was no man. It was, as most folk would believe to be a ghost or a demon from times of old.....

Infernal cinders within empty eye sockets flared, as the walker turned its skull head to bare sight upon its place of unholy rising: one- now empty, unmarked unhallowed grave.

Skeletal digits of bone reached instinctively for its twin colt side-arms, this man to become a demon; his guns he bore in life, they were buried with him. on a right of requestor from the dead man's wife.....

Jets of flame raised from the rider's spurs, as they impacted gravel and stone. The rapidly rotating razor edges of the spur's teeth, cutting through larger pieces to keep the water stead on its feet.

Plant and animal life that chance to cross the walker's path, quickly expire by the blackening death; the true horror of this demon's wake.....

Darkened is its spirit. By god's reckoning, this Walker of the plains , divinity of holy blessings would rebuke and forsake.

This walker, it was Chaos. Its presence wrought from the necromantic raising of an outlaws buried remains.....



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