Eve cursed, knowing she should never have relied on her brother to fix her car. Now she was stuck in the middle of bumpkin-land with no one in sight. To make things worse, she had no telephone signal. Her best hope was a farmhouse she’d seen in the distance.
About halfway across the first field, she noticed a thick wall of fog creeping towards her—herding her—and shivered as icy tendrils caressed her bare skin.
She lost her bearings. Whispers reached her ears; echoes of the screams of tortured souls, completely unsettling her.
She came to a lichgate and found herself in a churchyard filled with crumbling gravestones, covered in sulphur-yellow lichen. The church door was locked; a sign, nailed at eye level ominously read ‘TRESPASSERS WILL FIND NO REDEMPTION’.
Eve hurried around the side and reached another door at the back. To her relief, it was cracked open enough to squeeze through. But the atmosphere inside felt… wrong, the hairs on the back of her neck instinctively rising. She wrinkled her nose, inhaling the odour of mouldering wood. Cobwebs hung like gossamer curtains from the beams.
She couldn’t bear the intense feeling and had just made a move to leave when, with a squeal, the door slammed shut and an old organ wheezed to life emitting a toneless tune.
Terror gripped her as demonic figures leapt from the stained-glass windows and skittered down columns. Vines wrapped around her ankles and wound their way up her bare legs, seeming to taste her as they traced their way up to her thighs. She fell to the floor as they tugged, cracking her skull against the solid stone floor. Dizziness overtook her as the vines painfully bound her arms, fingers tingling as nerves were compressed.
All Eve could manage were sobbing cries as the demons fell upon her, tearing her flesh, sucking on the essence of her soul.
She screamed until her screams died to whimpers and finally to silence. Her body was no longer her vessel as she joined the other tortured souls, residing eternally in that insidiously evil place.