Okay, here we go. Buckle up. This isn't going to be a pleasant visit.
Welcome to Havenwood, Kansas: Population 71,382 (give or take) year: 2004
Havenwood looks like any other mid-sized, Midwestern town. Chain restaurants line Main Street, soccer moms drive SUVs, and Friday night lights gleam on the football field. The air smells of corn and exhaust, depending on the wind. A decent place to raise a family, they say. A place where nothing much ever happens.
They're wrong.
Beneath the veneer of normalcy, Havenwood is rotten. It's a breeding ground, a festering wound on the fabric of reality. Something is wrong with the earth here. Something clings to the old places, the dark corners. And it's been getting steadily worse for decades.
The things that lurk are subtle at first. A shadow that moves too quickly. A voice whispering your name when no one is there. A feeling of being watched. Then, it escalates. Nightmares bleed into daylight. Memories become unreliable. People disappear, leaving no trace. Animals act strangely. And the weight of dread settles over the town like a shroud.
The terrifying part? Most people don't notice. Or, if they do, they rationalize it. Chalk it up to stress, a bad dream, a vivid imagination. Havenwood has a way of burying its secrets, of normalizing the abnormal. The collective denial is almost as strong as the darkness itself.
But some of you... you see it. You feel it. You know something is deeply, fundamentally wrong. You're touched. Marked. And now, you're part of the horror.
Welcome to Havenwood, Kansas: Population 71,382 (give or take) year: 2004
Havenwood looks like any other mid-sized, Midwestern town. Chain restaurants line Main Street, soccer moms drive SUVs, and Friday night lights gleam on the football field. The air smells of corn and exhaust, depending on the wind. A decent place to raise a family, they say. A place where nothing much ever happens.
They're wrong.
Beneath the veneer of normalcy, Havenwood is rotten. It's a breeding ground, a festering wound on the fabric of reality. Something is wrong with the earth here. Something clings to the old places, the dark corners. And it's been getting steadily worse for decades.
The things that lurk are subtle at first. A shadow that moves too quickly. A voice whispering your name when no one is there. A feeling of being watched. Then, it escalates. Nightmares bleed into daylight. Memories become unreliable. People disappear, leaving no trace. Animals act strangely. And the weight of dread settles over the town like a shroud.
The terrifying part? Most people don't notice. Or, if they do, they rationalize it. Chalk it up to stress, a bad dream, a vivid imagination. Havenwood has a way of burying its secrets, of normalizing the abnormal. The collective denial is almost as strong as the darkness itself.
But some of you... you see it. You feel it. You know something is deeply, fundamentally wrong. You're touched. Marked. And now, you're part of the horror.
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