As I grew my hunger became more and more ravenous; after I had taken the man in my village I had to run for fear that someone might come looking for him; I'll never know if anyone did. I made a home for myself deep with-in the woodland, feasting on lonely travellers, I lay traps for their horses and their feet capturing and killing them before they had a chance to see my face. Of course I never took the equines life choosing instead to let them free. This life worked out well for me, no one knew I existed, I had no family, no friends and the disappearances were put down to some form of wild beast roaming in the woodland, my life was a happy one, I saw no wrong in what I was doing, people eat bovine and poultry, I could not then determine a difference.
My happiness was not to last for one day I found myself, unknowingly feasting upon a Nobel man. You must understand I did not keep up with the 'news' I did not know who was who and could not tell a Nobel man from a. Simple black smith. He rode into one of my traps, knocked unconscious by a tree branch. I feasted for days upon his flesh and was unawares of anything out of the ordinary until a group riding upon horse back thundered through my forest. I had learnt from a past mistake that it was not wise to capture a group, especially one as large as this one and so quickly moved to 'un-arm' my traps. I watched and listened then for any indication of why they may be there and to my horror I found out. The men had been sent into the woods to find, capture and kill the beast who had been taking travellers including their Nobel man. They were determined, out for blood and if I wasn't careful I would become their target.
I fled from the forest with nothing but the clothes on my back and my hunting knife, I moved quickly and far through towns and villages, across land and rivers until I felt I had run far enough to be safe. I made a home in the woodland surrounding a town, a town that was larger than the one I had left; a town that like many others was suffering. You see during this time, I was in my 25th year, something had as you say, come back with a vengeance witch hunting.
I had seen the repercussions however when I was small the witch trials had somewhat died down in England though a few still preached and secretly hunted. Now in our 17th century it was to make a devastating return though its return would be my saving grace. During the witch hunts I was presented with one problem: people no longer entered the forests alone. They were too afraid of the 'witches' to ride alone and this presented me with a problem; I may have been tall and strong but I could never take on a group of fully grown men. There fore I had to find an alternative source of food and I did. I was very resourceful, I had to be, I had always had to be and so one day when I saw a pair of small children wandering through the forest I took my chance, anyone would.
When I took those children and ate every last morsel of flesh from their tiny bones and picked my teeth with their shin bones I had no idea what I was starting. I left the bones piled and took my leave from the village, I thought it best to go since I had taken someones children and I had expected to hear the uproar in the surrounding villages when they found their bones but instead I was presented with two entirely different stories.
The first I heard when I was stalking two men through the forest, they raged about the 'new low' witched had reached, taking and murdering small children, using their flesh for their spells, I couldn't believe it, I had gotten away with it scott free and the blame had fallen upon the witches. The second story I heard was one that chilled my bones much more; I was tempted by a group of small children when I heard them whispering about something, the bogeyman. A man dressed all in black who lurks in the shadows and pounces when you're not looking. He takes you when your naughty, he eats you flesh and chews on your bones, he is the bogeyman. Shivers ran down my spine, I left those children alive that day and wandered for hours contemplating what they had said; I was not to know that this label would stick with me forever and would strike gear into children's hearts for years to come.
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