A shrill howl rings out through the night air. It sends a chill up the spine of a lone member of the 4th Massachusetts, who pulled guard duty for a small party of soldiers camped on the northern edge of Upper Bleakwoode. The soldier’s eyes dart back and forth, frantically straining to see the source of the sound. A second howl, now louder, reverberates off his ears, the noise somehow as sad as it is frightening. Suddenly, in the space between the surrounding trees, a dozen pairs of eerie red eyes light up. The soldier jumps up to alert his troops, but his warning cries are cut short.
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