In 1890 an Irish sea captain fled his doomed ship and found refuge in the farmlands of northeastern Indiana. With him he brought a curse... a curse that was passed down to his descendants. In 1968 two brothers must finally confront this curse not on...
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From the Journal of Captain Thomas Husher
April 25, 1890
Full and fat they waddled and squalled beneath the threadbare sliver of a moon. They showed up but a span of days after I had been coerced into buying this cursed land by the yammering nit inhabiting the shallows of my mind. Here I had not the time to build much more than a rudimentary shack amongst the junipers at the crest of a thick hill. And now the madness that had been slowly building inside me for all these miserable months seemed to have spillt into the world proper, as maggots might spill from the guts of a deadman.
I peered through the tattered rag curtains, rifle clutched in white-knuckled hand. These devils seemed to find no interest in me. There was something else they craved. Something I could not see. Yet something I most certainly could feel. I had no name for it, and the vile wourm wrapped 'bout my brain was most selfish in keeping such knowledge to itself. I could only watch and wait for sunrise to chase these obscene creatures back to the curious void what spawned them.
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Chapter2
Venatoresex Malo
For those unfamiliar with the esoteric culture and traditions of the great state of Indiana, supper could be a very intimidating affair. You were bound to be served meat, that was a given. But there were equal chances said meat was either purchased from the store, butchered in the barn, or shot in the forest. My Dad used to joke about needing to flip a three-sided coin to predict what Mom had thawed out for the evening. The side dishes could be equally interesting, be they greens from the garden, preserves from the cellar, or something picked along the deer trail. Dessert rarely mattered, as most folks had already surrendered too many belt notches by then. Indiana was a recipe with few ingredients. All you needed was a hot skillet, a pat of butter, and a few familiar favorites.
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