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As you walk down the road, you catch sight of a thin line of smoke rising above the corn stalks. It's a welcome sight, promising the prospect of shelter and possibly even a hot meal after what feels like an endless journey on the road. Your feet are heavy with exhaustion and caked with dirt, and even just the thought of rest feels like a gift from the gods.
As you approach the closed gates of the farmhouse, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. It's likely just the residents of the house observing your approach from the upper floors, but something about the way the corn is rustling in the breeze sends a shiver down your spine. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something doesn't seem right.
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Dallas
2022-12-21 13:36:20 +0000 UTC