A moment later, the bray of horses and the pounding of hooves resonated in the distance as if they were running from another realm, drawing near. Then the Lost Souls of the Wild Hunt burst through the forest at the edge of the park, led by the Dark Rider.
The eyes of his horse glowed a bright red and steam poured from its nostrils in the night air as it galloped toward us at full speed. And the Dark Rider's head was now a flaming skull along with his eyes, and he wore the same leather jacket and pants that he had worn before.
Chains were wrapped around his body and he pulled them off when he saw the old woman, waiting for death. He cracked the chains and the burst into flames as he approached, his horse pushing harder as the Wild Hunt howled and raged behind him, seething for the kill.
The closer he came, the more it rained until the ground was completely saturated.
