<span style="text-decoration: underline"> Response to Creator's  and Goat's Post</span><br/><br/>The time was about 3pm when a old "shagging" wagon from the 70's was Eversprings bound. The wagon, a yellow painted, and white pinned striped relic of times gone by. Still even had the classic "W" Volkswagen symbol rested proudly right between the headlights. The driver of the wagon was an old Cajun named Guillaume Conard. Now old Guilliaume was a man who had been around for quite some time now. Seen plenty of strange things, and been involved in some interesting circumstances. That it be though. When he spotted both the orange colored woman and what looked to be a mountain of a girl.  He slammed on the breaks, and stopped about ten feet from the both of them. He wasn't sure what to make of the pair, or even why they would be there. Yet maybe they needed help, or maybe the orange stripped creature was about to pounce. He knew he would have not much time to decide.<br/><br/>He glared out towards Tanya from the drivers seat of his wagon. Then at Ashley who from first glanced looked to be a run of the mill teenager. Except the whole, being tall as hell. If this girl was indeed in trouble though by some ramdom creature in the middle of the road. Old Guilliame would make sure he put a stop to it right there. In all honesty though. This was one of those moments in time that he wished he wasn't retired. Guillaume sighed, and turned off the ignition. The grey hared Cajun knew he was not a young man anymore, and he knew that if he stepped out of his car. It might lead to his end, but old Guillaume was still a classic southerner at heart. Though, even with that in mind. He turned over towards the back of his driver's seat, and reached for his old friend "Marie".<br/><br/>It was then that he opened up the driver's seat door, and stepped down from his vehicle. In his hands was a Russian made Ak-47 with some custom attachments added to it. At first glance when you got past the whole "Ak-47" thing. Guillaume appeared as a simple old man. He stood at about 5'9 and weighed about 230-250. His skin was white, but still very tan. The type of tan someone living down in the lousiana swamps would have this time of the year. There was hair everywhere on his body, except his head. He even sported a long beard that looked as if it had been on his face for quite some time. Though even with his appearance as it was. There was a telling sign that gave him away.<br/><br/>His eyes<br/><br/>The eyes of a killer. The type of eyes that were hard...cold, calculated. A bit grayed out, and even possibilities of blindness. Yet his eyes were a story all their own. The type of story that was better off forgotten. In his younger years, Guillame would of approached he situation with probably a more aggressive approach. Deffently a more aggressive approuch with innocent lives were threatened. Instead of doing this. He did not raise his rifle, but instead he stood there only for a moment. The look of fear in her eyes, and even the way she carried herself. He could already tell Tanya was not the wild game he was after, but maybe someone could of helped.<br/><br/>"Afternoon Chers! You'd  both look like you in some distress." He said as he slung his Ak over his right shoulder. "Forgive me for my appearance, and show of force. Old Guilliame is use to the more violent things in life. I mean nothing by it." That thick Cajun accent of his was pretty damn easy to pick up on as he continued to approach. "I'd say it be not the best idea for a lovely lady as yourself to be standing out here with no clothes on. I may have some blankets and some food back in my vehicle." He still was not sure if the orange woman would harm the teenage girl, but again he had to show some signs of good faith. He now stood about five feet from both Ashley and Tanya.  Guilliame had done his best to to keep up that southern charm. Just enough to keep the situation civil. He never wanted, or liked when things got out of hand.<br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="text-decoration: underline"> Response to Shadow's post</span><br/><br/>It was only 3pm, and yet today had felt like it had went on forever. Matt, who was still in his office, had been seated at his desk. He had decided to make the call. A call that he had hoped he wouldn't need to make. The significance of this phone call at the moment did not mean much. In reality it was only merely a safety net. A safety net that he was prepared to cast over the town. If things were ever to get out of control. Matt let out a deep sigh of regret, and hated himself for falling back on old habits. He looked up towards the glass outside his door, a thin piece of protection that seperated him and his staff. He had to trust these people to their jobs, and they had to trust him to do his. The question was, for Matt at least. How far did that trust in a small town like Eversprings really go?<br/><br/>Meanwhile some of the deputies were outside the department on their smoke break. After all, it had been a long day for them too. The crazy ass calls about creatures in the woods. The sheriff's truck being totaled, and even the damn crap about sightings of ghost children in town. Though to be honest. This was a normal day in the town of Eversprings. For most of these deputies. They grew up with the stories of the supernatural. Tall tales, and reports of creatures out in the woods. About monsters that hid beneath their beds, and even evil witches that took bad children from their parents.<br/><br/>The deputies just learned to deal with it, and it seemed like so has their new sheriff. There were a few rumors that day back at the department about the conversation Matt had with the mayor. Even more about the conversation Matt had with the Mayor's secretary. Some of the deputies had become a bit concerned about how much of Matt's past had been hidden form them. They knew he was in the service, and that after the service. He did some work for the government, but taking a bribe? Not even the old sheriff would ever do that. They still remember when the old sheirff stood toe to toe with the Mayor, and almost punch the smug bastard in the face.<br/><br/>It was when one of the deputies had finished their cigarette. That they noticed something odd. Across from them was an old grocery store. One that had closed down after it was discovered that the owner had a thing for human flesh. That and necrophilia. There were a lot of things wrong with the owner of that store. Anyway. The deputy decided to chase the kid off. After all it was rumored that the old grocery store was haunted by the victims of the owner. That and strange creatures were rumored to roam around it. " Hey you! You do not belong here!" The deputy said as he marched over there to scare the kid off.<br/><br/>All the while the other deputies had stood infront of the police station. They had to watch this, and see if one small kid could be that much of a promblem. Only if they had realized how much of a trouble that kid was.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="text-decoration: underline">Public post</span><br/><br/>There is a hill not far from the outskirts of town. A hill in which has been around since the time of the towns founding. A simple mount of land and grass. A hill that at one time made every single resident in the town wish for it's destruction. Now one may ask what is so special about a simple hill? Well it is not the hill that is the issue, but what is built upon it's hollow ground. A old windmill that was built long ago for the crushing of grain into flower. A windmill that in one fateful day turned from a tool. Into a nightmare beyond anyone understanding, and that nightmare's name is Mother Netta.<br/><br/>A vengeful spirit whom the town of Eversprings should of never forgotten.<br/><br/>Elizabeth, as she was known long ago. Was a simple woman, who prided herself herself on the ability to provide for the town. To add to that pride. She was with child, and enjoyed the idea of being a mother very much so. Sad to say. Poor Elizbeth never saw that day. On a somewhat chilly October's day while crushing the grain into flower. Her dress got caught on the grinder. She tried with all her might to tear the dress off, but with no one to help her. Both Elizabeth and her unborn child met a gruesome end. To add to the tragedy. Not one single soul knew of her fate, until the day the bread from that windmill had been baked.<br/><br/>A day or so later in the town. Families had gathered around. Meals were cooked, and the townsfolk enjoyed the pleasant company of others. They survived a harsh winter. They were greeted by a bountiful spring, and were now enjoyed a calm fall. The leaves had turned a golden shade of the yellow. The trees had begun to lose said leaves. The cool breeze of wind brushed againts their faces. All was well, and as they broke they bread. The horror of what had happened to one of their own tainted their lips with the scent of copper. It was on that day that Everspring's peaceful days were ended, and the birth of a nightmare began.<br/><br/>The children of the town began to go missing. Sounds of disembodied giggling of children, and the sighting of a woman dressed in white robes plagued the townsfolk. The bread, all of it rotted with the blood of the Mother. The townsfolk pleaded for god to help them, but it would seem that only the devil responded. Eventually it was discovered that the windmill had been cursed by Mother Netta's vengeful spirit. That do to the fact that in her desperate pleads for someone to save went unanswered. So would the towns. The mayor at the time could only do one thing to settle the spirit. He held a festival to calm her down. In this festival there would be bread baked, and a woman dressed in white. A child would be guided to the windmil, and doing so. Mother Netta would take the child as her own, and add their soul to her "family." This calmed the vengeful spirit, and appeased her hunger for more children. On October 13 each year this tradition was carried on. Though through the years it has become forgotten, and treated as superstition.<br/><br/>Infact in the early 90s her festival was almost completely forgotten, and her tragic story became a simple "boogeyman" story. Now in 2017, as the times had continued to leave her memory as some old wives tale. Mother Netta's spirit had become angry. How dare they forget her. How dare they forget their history. Only a few months away from her festival, and no signs of preparations for her at all. They want to forget her? They want to treat her story as if it never happened...They will learn to respect their  history!<br/><br/>There above the town! The windmill which lead to the death of poor Elizabeth had begun to grind once more. The old stone mechanism become twisted, and alive. The sails of the windmill moved on it's own. On that hill, her feet sunk into the grass beneath the souls of ghostly heels. Stood Mother Netta. Her eyes fixated on the town she had once called home all those years ago. With her were her children. The lost souls that she adopted into her family. She was not alone, and knew with the arrival of her spirit. Many more of Eversprings past will awaken as well. So be it...<br/><br/>As Mother Netta glared down. Eli had been seated at his desk. His secretary was hovered over him as he glared at some paperwork. They both felt a chill in the air, as did everyone in the town. Even those in the sheirff's office. A chill that struck you down to the bone. One that even folk could feel. This chill brought a smile to Eli's face. "Good..She is awake..About damn time you old hag."  He then turned to Miss Wilson. "Looks like i win the bet."