Full Moon Frenzy - Episode 1: A Rift in Time

The sun was setting over Beacon Hill Disc Golf Course when the first signs appeared. A strange distortion in the air, like heat waves rising from summer asphalt, except this was a crisp March evening. As the light faded, shadows began to move in ways that defied physics, and an otherworldly chill settled over the course.

I'm Captain Cassidy "Ace" Zane, and what happened next would change disc golf forever.

Gabriel Casdorph was finishing a twilight round when he saw it - a tear in reality itself, right between holes 7 and 8. The rift pulsed with an eerie purple light, casting long shadows across the fairway. As he approached, the air grew thick with an unnatural fog that seemed to whisper ancient secrets.

"I've seen enough classic horror films to know where this is going," I muttered, gripping my trusty glow-in-the-dark driver. "When mysterious portals start opening up during the witching hour, it's never for a friendly game of catch."

The fog swirled and coalesced, taking shape into something that belonged on a vintage movie poster. A vampire, straight out of a 1930s Universal horror film, complete with evening wear and a cape that billowed without wind. But this was no Boris Karloff in makeup - this thing was real, and it was hungry.

Gabriel didn't hesitate. He reached for his bag and pulled out a disc that seemed to drink in what little light remained. The Twilight Terror bag tag gleamed with an otherworldly shimmer, responding to the dimensional instability. As he gripped the disc, shadows danced around his fingers, acknowledging him as someone who understood the delicate balance between light and dark.

"The rift's more unstable during twilight," he called out to the gathering crowd of players. "That's when the barriers between worlds are thinnest. But our glow discs - they seem to affect these creatures!"

He was right. When the vampire lunged at a group of players, their hastily thrown glow discs created barriers of light that forced it back. The creature hissed, revealing fangs that would make Max Schreck jealous.

"Now that's what I call a hazard," I announced, channeling my inner monster movie host. "Folks, we're witnessing the birth of a whole new sport: Monster Hunter Disc Golf. And trust me, the out-of-bounds rules are about to get a lot more interesting."

More players arrived, drawn by the commotion. Most joined our impromptu monster hunting party, but I noticed a few hanging back in the shadows, watching with unsettling interest. Their eyes reflected the rift's purple glow, and something told me they weren't there to help.

Gabriel took point, using his understanding of the Twilight Terror to predict the vampire's movements. "The creatures are stronger in darkness," he explained, "but they can't stand the pure light of our glow discs. We need to coordinate our throws!"

Working together, we created a web of glowing flight paths that trapped the vampire. With each successful hit, the creature grew weaker until, with a final shriek that echoed across dimensions, it dissolved into mist and retreated through the rift.

But this victory felt more like a beginning than an end. The rift remained, pulsing with malevolent energy. And as true night fell, I could have sworn I saw a tall, cloaked figure standing near the treeline, watching us with eyes that glowed like distant embers.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I announced, trying to keep my voice steady, "welcome to the Monsters of Beacon Hill League. Where every round is sudden death, and par isn't the only thing hunting you on the course."

Gabriel held up his Twilight Terror bag tag, its surface now marked with strange symbols. "The rift's only going to get stronger," he warned. "And there are worse things than vampires waiting to come through."

Looking at the gathered players, their glow discs casting defiant light against the encroaching darkness, I knew we were witnessing the dawn of a new era in disc golf. One where every throw could mean the difference between victory and becoming another monster's midnight snack.

And somewhere in the darkness, something laughed.