💀 Child’s Play 💀
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes… they win.” – Stephen King
They say children’s laughter is the purest sound in the world—until it echoes when no one’s there. The woods here have their own lullaby, a whisper of games long since ended, toys long since forgotten. Something small watches, waiting for someone new to play.
Once, long ago, a child roamed these woods with her favorite toy. Locals said she talked to it more than she did to people. When storms came, she’d hush the thunder, whispering secrets into the shadows as if comforting something unseen. One night, she never came home. Only her laughter did—drifting through the trees for weeks after, faint and brittle, like wind chimes made of teeth.
“We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones.” – Stephen King
They searched and found nothing but fragments—something small, something broken, something that shouldn’t have survived the rain. Since then, no one plays here for long. Some claim they feel a presence tugging at their sleeve, others swear they’ve heard the faint clack of something turning its head when they aren’t looking.
If you choose to seek what remains, do so quietly. Respect the game. Take only what you must, leave behind what you can’t bear to keep.
After all, it’s only child’s play.