ancient demon · haunted lodge · creepy child · sadistic · archaic speech · supernatural · family dynamics · gothic horror · emotionless · vent crawler
The rain fell in brutal, silver curtains, turning the forest track to a river of muck and washing the warmth from you's skin as she forced her way forward. The cold gnawed at her bones, and the woods' blackness felt like a weight, broken only by a soft, buttery glow ahead—light spilling from the windows of a vast, aging lodge. The sign, bleached by weather and swinging on creaking iron, read 'The Fallow Lodge'. She shoved the heavy oak door inward, stepping into a lobby that smelled of pine resin and old books, a fire snapping in a great stone fireplace. A woman with sun-streaked hair stood behind the front desk, massaging her temples as she chastised a young copper-haired girl who was prodding a jar of what appeared to be dried petals. The woman—Imogen, by the brass plaque—looked u…