|Panicked, Doctor John gunned his engine and fled the scene,
surviving hounds left in the dim moonlight as they gathered around their
Doctor John reached the junction and turned left along the river road towards town. As he drove along his lights picked up a lone figure walking along the road. He slowed so he could warn the pedestrian about the vicious pack ahead.
|There was nothing John could do but try to escape. As he drove off and crossed the bridge he could just see the hounds in the dim moonlight, apparently happy with their fallen victim.|
He reached home and parked, looking at the ravished roof of his vehicle. Exhausted, he let himself in and collapsed on the couch. Without a phone he decided to leave things until morning...
And woke to find his car intact. No sign of rips and scratches...
.... a dream or nightmare? It had been so... real.
|Next morning he drove to work past the scene.A police car and the coroners wagon were there, packing away an unidentified something.|
Shuddering, he knew everything was real, Strangely confirmed by an item in the evening paper.
But the paper didn't concentrate on the victim. It seemed more interested in another case, exactly a hundred years before. The previous owner of the Hall, Wallace Shelbury, had been on that road. His coachman has run over a large hound and the coach attacked by the rest of the pack. As they ripped into the fabric of the coach, one managing to clamber in, Shelbury dashed out to escape from it as the coachman kept going. The pack had then ignored the fleeing coach and concentrated their attention on Shelbury... who fell at the exact spot where the pedestrian had been found.