Member-only story
What looks awesome might be in a panic, what looks powerful might be in pain…..
Once upon a time, there was a Celtic village at the foot of the mountain. Every winter it was haunted by the ghosts of the dead. They sometimes wandered in the valley, sometimes snuck out in the village. Some not only were as strong as the bulls but also had giant bull horns.
One day, a young man in the village was heading to the other side of the mountain to visit his friend. Before departure, his fellow villagers told him, “Don’t panic if you see a ghost. Run for a big tree and quickly climb up it. So, it won’t be able to hurt you.”
He kept the tips in mind and went up to the mountain. He was very careful in the beginning, but no ghost showed up. Then he started to feel relaxed. He muttered to himself, “Maybe they are being over concerned.”
It grew dark. Right over a hill, the young man saw a ghost darting across the bushes, rushing toward him. Its thighs were as thick as buckets, a pair of long teeth glimmered in the dusk, the giant horns overhead swished through the air. The young man almost felt faint. But he quickly got his breath back.
Tree! Tree! He turned back and ran for a tree.
