That Old Black Magic
Boston was once a revolutionary city, full of ideas and promise. Its possibilities have been fading, lost in a mire of apathy and the frantic pace of too-rapid change. What legacies continue to reach forward, out of history, to continue to affect the present? The woods of New England and upstate New York have a certain rep for having been haunted by devil-worshipers, witches or creatures of the night during the time of the pilgrims and the later colonies (the Headless Horseman, for instance). Was this all just in the imagination of the Puritans, or is there some grain of truth here?
There’s a world of mystery and terror out there. Of ancient fear, as old horrors claw their way out of the past to retain a hold on the present. Of lore best left forgotten: specters walking lonely roads and abandoned hallways and gatherings of terrible purpose, in which oaths are spoken and the blood of the firstborn is let. It is the fear of speaking the Names that bring madness — of beholding sights meant for no mortal eye — a good, old-fashioned, New England fear.