It was the 24th of December, a cold, crisp night. Snow piled high, not a footprint in sight. The sounds of emptiness echoed through the trees, a silence so heavy it pressed against the ears.

From an old wooden cabin, a thin puff of smoke drifted into the night sky like a bird set free.

An old but nimble hand slowly opened the door, revealing the dim glow cast by the fire burning inside. Then the...

Fog crept over the mountain, like an assassin ,sneaking up on its target. The target was the the little town of Lake Willow. A town where no one ever visited and no one ever left. A town where all houses looked the same, and the locals knew each by name. To some this was home.

To me it was a grim reminder of a world i wish to forget. I used to visit Lake Willow every holiday. After my parents we...