It has clearly been years since anyone has lived here. Yet, the cabin still stands witness to a
gruesome tale.
What is left of the door lays crooked off the hinges,
clearly broken down from the outside.
The majority of a skeleton sprawls among the rough wooden
furniture. It has enough clothing scraps
left to identify it as a man. He appears
to have been trying to get to the brass bed at the side of the room. Several broken vertebrae explain why he
didn’t get that far. The bedding and
mattress have fallen prey to the local rodent population, but dark sections in
the remains and a large, dried brown pool below show how much blood there had
been.
No second skeleton, but some unusual candles, crystals and
chalk occupy an upper cabinet. Secrets
within secrets. The amount of blood loss
means there had been a second person, a second victim that could not have
survived long.
A quick skittering outside, nothing is there. A dead raccoon thunks against the wall. Suddenly, the door is filled with a screaming
figure. Blurred around the edges, not
entirely corporeal, still the figure of a woman is discernable. Dark tattoos scrawl across her body,
occasionally obscured by the long black hair.
Her eyes glow. No sanity in that
gaze, no compassion, no hope. Only anger
remains. Anger and pain. From now until eternity, anger and pain.
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