Day 1,724

The church rotted away a long time ago but there ruins remain and the old graves still stand among the trees. It used to have a drop-box facing the stream, a place where unwanted infants were left by nameless parents. Even after the clergy abandoned the area people still left their babies there, opening the rusty metal hatch and piling little corpse upon little corpse and pretending it was somehow the lesser evil.

They left children there too - told them there was treasure buried in the deepest corner of cellar and barricaded the door when the poor mites were far enough inside. To this day you can faintly smell something rotting if you're close enough to the metal grate that now covers the entrance.

It was a fairly recent measure meant to put an end to people abandoning their children rather than seek out social services. Much as that worked, it still didn't help the souls who were already there, the ones who weren't able to rest and were still looking for that treasure and for their missing parents.

On some nights you can hear their little fists banging on the unmoving door... you can hear a metal hatch rattling as if something inside was trying to force its way out... you can see little figures darting between the gravestones.