He sat there, watching those hideous creatures stirring up the fire… to cook him!
Why did he crossed that cursed bridge!
Then hell! How was he supposed to know that some fairytales are true?
He took the less travelled road in the sanctuary, that led him deeper into the wood, then he reached this bridge, beautiful like a painting on that creek, reflecting the trees on both sides and the blue sky above.
“Troll Bridge” was written on that ages old board but he naturally ignored it and when that huge hand, as big as a truck snatched him away from the bridge he started screaming.
“Two bits of gold!” a voice roared.
“From where will I get gold?” he whimpered.
“We will have human tonight friends!” the voice roared again.