"Just because it's abandoned doesn't mean nobody lives there." as a sensible point made by one of the three teenagers who stood worryingly close to the property line that had been officially marked with a thick trail of pinecones. It definitely stood out from the rest of the forest floor as the only clearly man-made thing for almost twelve miles and the alleged house somewhere inside the giant circle was what the teenagers were after.
It was rumoured that there was a mansion right at the centre, the very tip of which can clearly be seen from the roof of the town hall (though its officially just known as an old watch tower from the war days). Alongside this was also the "common knowledge" that the mansion's owners had left in a great hurry, having found their recently built home to be haunted by the vengeful ghost of the twenty builders who'd been killed by them so that nobody else would know the exact layout.
Of course this was just rumour but it continued to lure the occasional group of bored youths and people looking to hide from society for a while in a place where nobody went. Though no photos of the alleged mansion existed, just the thought of it was enough to bring people in to a place they would swear to never speak about again.
Now while these three teenagers knew all about this, two thirds didn't want to consider the potential dangers while one attempted to be the voice of reason among them and failed. They were ignored as their friends stepped decisively over the pinecone line and after a brief pause to consider the full consequences of their action, they carried on with the voice of reason tagging reluctantly along a few paces behind them.
The trees were different inside the ring, they all had wet handprints on them as though somebody had just stepped out of a pool and needed to brace themselves before carrying on further into the forest. The ground grew steadily more damp until they found themselves slogging through ankle-deep mud with large puddles coming into view.
By the time they reached the remains of a house (definitely not a mansion and definitely a lot older than the rumours declared) they were knee deep in surprisingly warm water. The house itself was partially sunken and not even remotely safe to walk into so the trio walked around the perimeter taking as many photos as they could and discussing where they'd post them.
Their trip back was entirely uneventful, though the handprints on the trees were now dripping with water as opposed to just being there as though they'd been freshly done. They didn't see the woman until they were looking at their photos much later on. She'd approached them and stared right into their lens, blocking their view of the house for the most part.
Just like the rest of the area she was drenched, her hair plastered to her not-quite-human face as she glared as them through teary eyes. It looked like she'd been crying for days with the way the skin around her eyes was cracked and red, even bleeding a little forming pink streaks against her unnaturally white face. In her arms she was carrying a bundle of rags with a limp and bloated little arm that seemed frozen in an unnatural position.
It was rumoured that there was a mansion right at the centre, the very tip of which can clearly be seen from the roof of the town hall (though its officially just known as an old watch tower from the war days). Alongside this was also the "common knowledge" that the mansion's owners had left in a great hurry, having found their recently built home to be haunted by the vengeful ghost of the twenty builders who'd been killed by them so that nobody else would know the exact layout.
Of course this was just rumour but it continued to lure the occasional group of bored youths and people looking to hide from society for a while in a place where nobody went. Though no photos of the alleged mansion existed, just the thought of it was enough to bring people in to a place they would swear to never speak about again.
Now while these three teenagers knew all about this, two thirds didn't want to consider the potential dangers while one attempted to be the voice of reason among them and failed. They were ignored as their friends stepped decisively over the pinecone line and after a brief pause to consider the full consequences of their action, they carried on with the voice of reason tagging reluctantly along a few paces behind them.
The trees were different inside the ring, they all had wet handprints on them as though somebody had just stepped out of a pool and needed to brace themselves before carrying on further into the forest. The ground grew steadily more damp until they found themselves slogging through ankle-deep mud with large puddles coming into view.
By the time they reached the remains of a house (definitely not a mansion and definitely a lot older than the rumours declared) they were knee deep in surprisingly warm water. The house itself was partially sunken and not even remotely safe to walk into so the trio walked around the perimeter taking as many photos as they could and discussing where they'd post them.
Their trip back was entirely uneventful, though the handprints on the trees were now dripping with water as opposed to just being there as though they'd been freshly done. They didn't see the woman until they were looking at their photos much later on. She'd approached them and stared right into their lens, blocking their view of the house for the most part.
Just like the rest of the area she was drenched, her hair plastered to her not-quite-human face as she glared as them through teary eyes. It looked like she'd been crying for days with the way the skin around her eyes was cracked and red, even bleeding a little forming pink streaks against her unnaturally white face. In her arms she was carrying a bundle of rags with a limp and bloated little arm that seemed frozen in an unnatural position.
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