The Unnamed
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It was the first light to have ever shown from that place, and Presley had been watching from her study for the last three years. Horrific aged tales of missing persons, mutilations, murders and suicides surrounded the cabin, despite suspected abandonment. There was always the occasional rumor of something or other about it. Some said a family of shut-ins had lived there for years surviving off of the flesh of those mutilated - a story of cannibalism, others with the traditional tale of hauntings and supernatural occurrences, and some even spun tales of extra terrestrial abductions and experimentation. With decades upon decades of existence under its belt, there was plenty of time for an array of pictures to be painted about this most ominous place. Presley had been a daily observer, though, before and after her son’s disappearance, and nothing of that nature ever struck her as the truth. It had been quiet for so long until Toby was gone.
