Thanks for taking my call. I would like to tell you my story of what happened the summer of '76. It was a hot summer, the driest I can remember. The woods around Mawnan Smith were thick and quiet. Too quiet. You know how birds usually sing in the evening? That year, near the church, the birds just... stopped. I can still see it in my mind, clear as day.
I was walking the coastal path, cutting through the churchyard to get back to the village. It was dusk. The sun had just dipped, but there was still grey light. I heard a sound from the pine trees. A hissing noise. Like air escaping a tire, but louder. Angrier. I looked up at the church tower. Something was perched on the edge.
At first, I thought it was a man in a costume. Someone playing a prank. It was standing on two legs, human legs, but they were bent backward at the knee. It was the size of a man, maybe five or six feet tall. But it was covered in grey feathers. Not soft down feathers-these looked coarse, like slate.
[ Story continues in the full game... ]