It happened on the outskirts of London, where the fog is a cloud of shrouds. With images of Odyzzeum the panorama was decomposed into a pathetic delirium. The ancient house, the holy field and the lake were in a straight line. Strange and suggestive the apparent disturbance of natural architecture. In a wooded and howling profile, nestled like a thousand-year-old statue, the baroque house that among the cracked bricks, the spider webs glowed, deterioration by the years and neglect of its inhabitants. Faced with such old age, like a monster of pain, the lonely graves where the bones screamed dust waiting for the flower that never arrived. As a screen closure, the lake hissing at the leafy trees, which looked at the desolation.
The medieval mansion consisted of three floors, and at its angles several towers, of varying lengths. With immense ironwork gates enmoesido by the rains and eroded by the breeze of the cause. The round windows hid the mystery of the enjendro created by the owner.
On nights with a full moon the waters of the river turned reddish, sheltering the spirit of the poisonous reptile.
Drulofh Hamilton inherited from his ancestors the fortune that allowed him, the apprenticeship of a sorcerer sorcerer.
On certain days when shadows covered the sun, he drew from the cemetery what appeared to be evil symbols, from the watery depths, moving stones like bubbles of power, and from the house, he took objects that he threw on the bonfire of his rituals. The hermit, a diabolical alchemist, required for his experiments a companion according to his lineage. In a bar, where the women of the night played love, he found her, among dirty men and striped glasses; they caressed her, destroying her clothes. He approached her and proposed to take her to the castle and be married. He accepted. He packed up her few belongings and they set off into the unknown. The carriage sounded like glory and Lady Hamilton triumphantly showed her breasts. They arrived, unpacked and a nostalgia invaded to the foundations. They had no honeymoon, no party, not even a toast to the union.
The routine and the lack of attention began to stab Lady, (that mattered the name of her), she possessed nothing and with nothing she would leave. So it was.
An eerie morning, in which a storm let the deadly rays penetrate the towers, an ideal moment to continue with her ideals. In that holographic scenario, he decided to extract the skin and blood of the woman. With those elements she would have what she required to complete her creature.
The lady surprised by the unforeseen approach of her husband, she rebuked him. She was unsuccessful, the blow was accurate, she hurt a little. Now she is the Lord of the Lake.