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Unformatted text preview: louds, and then I walked out to the circle of stones, and stood there. I called upon it. I cursed it. I said, "I want you to go back to hell, St. Ashlar! That is your name, that is who you are, a two-legged man, who would have been worshiped, and in pride you have survived, an evil daemon to torment us." My voice rang out in the glen. But I was alone. It had not even deigned to answer me. But then as I stood in the circle, I suddenly felt that awful woozy feeling, as if I'd been dealt a blow, which meant the thing was coming into me. "No, back into hell!" I screamed, but I was falling to the grass. The world had become the wind itself, roaring in my ears, and carrying all distinct shapes and points of reference away with it. It was night when I awoke. I was bruised. My clothes were torn. The thing had run rampant in me, and here of all places. I was for a moment in fear for my life, sitting there in the dark, not knowing what had become of my horse, or which way to walk to leave this awful haunted glen...
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- Spring '10