38. CHICKEN HOUSE
"What?" Sasha whipped her head around and looked at what Kay was aiming at— there it was a shabby looking house also drabby. Not is was more of a cottage that a house.
Streams of smoke fumes left through the chimney, the woods looked dried and rotten. There were two windows on the front, left and right side of the cottage. It looked like a one man house. The air it instilled on them was melancholic and suffocating just like the monster that lived within.
Surrounding the ominous cottage was a clear open space with no grass growing— and a fence of— human skulls.
The site itself was enough to ward off trespassers. It sent chills up the spines of the two teens, stories of children who went camping at night and never returning was starting to articulate itself into their staggering minds— though these stories were largely more pupolar in countries like America.
