Ficlets

The lake had a glow about it, the woods at night sang of the magic that was once a ritual being perform there.

The house still stands where it all had happen. No one ever understood why the carving in the ground was a sign to never cross into the woods where these rituals took place. What could be burried beneath the hard and cold ground?

As I started documenting this error, I knew that I would uncover the mystery of a people controlled and obsessed by the world that took their minds, souls and lives.

They say if you tap on the face of this mystical creature the door would open to a world that would litteraly draw you in and you would be a slave to it forever.

I found writings and drawings of this time where cloaks and robes where worn without question. Underneath it all I thought there was still a living and breathing force that still exsist in thoes woods. No one goes there today, to affraid of a myth and folk tale, that is still being told to anyone who passes by this town of misguided tragic.