Cloudy. Gloomy.
It’s dense and dark that it feels like it may rain soon. The icy breeze and the very faint scent of wet soil makes it feel like it rained prior. One may cautiously consider looking for shelter from the future harsh weather. This mere moment of tranquility provides discomfort. Something urges you to head somewhere else fast. Before things go downhill.
Before you lays a densely packed forest. So tightly packed together that the mere sight of it makes you consider turning the other way. Looking within it, it feels pitch black. Ominous. As if something with ill intentions was beckoning you to enter. Yet, something within you suggests it would be unwise. It felt dangerous. Unsafe.
Yet, the harsh winds and the faint droplet of the sky urges you to head in to is gaping mouth. It feels like you’re entering the jaws of a beast.
Yet…something catches your eye.
A trail of blood is found at the mouth of the forest. Thick and wet, as if whoever was dragged through here happened moments ago. The alarms in your mind urges you to leave immediately and yet….you don’t.
Something within you wants to follow the trail. The urgency to help grasps that inch of kindness that lingered within your soul.
You have to help them you have to. You have to.
Or the guilt will get to you before the storm.
You push forward.
After some time you enter the mouth of the forest, the blood trail getting thicker and thicker. The smell of iron lingers in your nose, but the sense of urgency pushes you on. It began sprinkle moments ago, but you didn’t care.
The urgency to find the source of this trail before it gets washed away pushed you further.
In the end it led you to here.
The house.
Worn out and abandoned.
The exterior paint torn with age, the wood of the footsteps broken and uneven, the eyes of the house broken, and finally….