Retired Student

The village was nearly four hours from the city, and once the bus dropped me on the small road outside it, I had to walk the rest of the way alone. Nobody in the village wanted to take me there. When I asked an old shopkeeper for directions, he studied me for a long moment before asking why I wanted to go. "I'm a writer," I told him. He laughed without any real humor in it. "Then write about another place." When I pressed him for a reason, he only looked toward the forest and said, "Some houses are empty because people left them. That house is empty because something stayed." I assumed he was just trying to scare me and honestly, I welcomed it. I wanted to be scared. I thanked him and kept walking. The road narrowed and the village disappeared behind me until there was nothing but trees. After nearly an hour I finally saw the house standing alone three floors, a broken roof, filthy walls, windows black as ink, and behind it the enormous tree from the...