The haunting cries echoed through the air, giving Cyrus the impression that a man was weeping right before him. Yet, as he looked around, he found no trace of anyone in distress. The cries echoed with an eerie distortion, a much deeper and unnatural sound.

Cyrus paused when he heard it.

You've got to be kidding me; why would I bother going to the hamlet after hearing that!?

Still, he couldn't help it. He had to go, or it's back into that disturbing forest! This place might be his only chance out!

Cyrus couldn't shake off the unnerving sensation of being lured to this desolate place. Every fiber of his being screamed caution.

Gritting his teeth, he took slow steps while getting closer to the back of a house.

As he neared the back, a sudden wave of intense heat and pain surged through his chest, causing him to clutch at his heart! The searing sensation left him breathless, but Cyrus fought to stifle any sound that might give away his presence.

It was not until some time that the pain subsided.

Ugh. What is it now?

Cyrus tried to recall if anything happened to him, natural or supernatural, that would have caused the pain, but there were too many sources for it. Even worse, his chest pain could be a simple effect of reaching this world!

Too many variables.

Shaking his head and kept moving. As he approached, he noticed the back door was missing, providing a glimpse into the dimly lit interior.

At the same time, the crying grew more intense, its mournful echoes piercing the stillness of the surrounding area.

It seems to be coming from the direction of the pond.

Reaching the corner of the house, Cyrus peered out, his gaze fixed upon the small pond before him. The thick, swirling fog created an ethereal veil, obscuring his view. Yet, despite the limited visibility, he could discern a faint silhouette, a figure of a man kneeling at the water's edge.

The man's mournful cries pierced through the heavy air, resonating with sorrow and despair.

Cyrus's brow furrowed in confusion.

What could have driven this individual to such depths of anguish in this forsaken place? Questions swirled in his mind, yet he remained hidden, observing from the shadows, hesitant to reveal himself.

I shouldn't bother with that unless I have no choice.

Intuition told him to proceed cautiously and avoid unnecessary entanglement in whatever mysterious forces were at play. With that in mind, he decided to redirect his attention to the back door entry of the pauper's cruck house.

As he stepped cautiously into the house, a pungent odor assaulted his senses and made Cyrus wrinkle his nose. The air was heavy with the stench of something rotting.

His gaze swept across the room, revealing a dilapidated kitchen with a dining table at its center. Plates once filled with vegetables and meat now lay abandoned, their contents decomposing and festering for weeks. The pale light seeping through the windows and doors cast an eerie glow, lending an unsettling atmosphere to the scene.

Shaking off the discomfort, Cyrus quickly surveyed the room, eyes scanning for any clues or items of interest. When he gleaned all he could from the kitchen, he moved silently towards the only other space within the house.

While his attention remained partially focused on the crying figure outside, Cyrus stepped into the small room. The limited space housed only a bed and a small drawer, leaving little room for anything else. He quickly scanned the area, his eyes darting around for anything useful.

Nothing interesting... Maybe under the bed?

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Leaning down, he peered under, his eyes meeting the gaze of a small porcelain doll. It was staring back at him, sending a shiver down his spine.

A little creepy.

Carefully retrieving the doll, Cyrus held it up to examine it closely, holding it over the bed. The doll wore black armor, now weathered and decayed. Adorning its chest was a bright gold ring with a white circle at its center, intricately threaded into its porcelain form.

As Cyrus held the porcelain doll in his hands, a sudden and unexpected event unfolded before him. The doll's head detached from its neck, causing a black, ink-like substance to ooze out the neck stump. Cyrus instinctively dropped the doll, ensuring that the dark sludge did not come into contact with him. The doll and its detached head landed safely on the bed, cushioning their fall.

In the wake of this unsettling occurrence, Cyrus found himself momentarily frozen, his senses on high alert. He desperately strained his ears, hoping to hear the continuing cries from outside, praying they had not ceased.

Luckily, they didn’t.

There's nothing here. I need to check the other houses.

The second house was similar but more rotten. The only difference was signs of a fight, shown by damage around the kitchen that wasn't natural.

Cyrus frowned.

There's nothing here!

As he prepared to leave, something caught his attention—a bucket filled with rancid water. Although initially insignificant, the pungent odor emanating from it compelled him to investigate further.

Another doll.

Cyrus could only see the silhouette within the bucket but could recognize the same black substance covering it. The inky slime seemed to be melding into the water.

Best avoid it, then… I hope coming here is worth it.

Unfortunately, the next two houses had little value, giving a vague idea of how these people lived.

Cyrus maintained his stealthy approach, mindful of his surroundings as he listened to the increasingly distorted cries of the unseen man.

The fog outside the hamlet grew thicker, intensifying his unease with each passing moment.

Because of this, Cyrus made a decision.

"This is going nowhere. One last house, and then I'm out," he whispered to himself, determination flickering in his eyes.

As he approached the fifth house, he observed that it stood out. Unlike its dilapidated counterparts, this house still had intact doors, prompting Cyrus to navigate his way through one of the windows cautiously. He discovered a relatively well-kept dwelling with four rooms and a small hallway leading to them. Cyrus stood in the hallway, taking a moment to assess his surroundings.

Stepping into the main bedroom, Cyrus carefully scanned the room for anything significant. He noticed a pair of dolls resting on a small dresser, capturing his attention, despite the otherwise ordinary appearance of the space.

The first doll portrayed a woman adorned in a vibrant red dress with an embroidered symbol of fire prominently displayed on its chest. Its presence exuded a sense of intensity.

Beside it stood another doll depicting a woman in a green dress. Unlike the other dolls he had encountered, this figure appeared taller and had intricately woven branches and twigs protruding from its form.

Cyrus shook his head in disappointment.

Not a single map. Are these guys wildmen? Where would they get water and food?!? I haven't found anything that seems to be weapons.

Disappointed, Cyrus left the room.

Walking towards the kitchen, light from another room captured his attention; it came from a bedroom.

As Cyrus stepped into the bedroom along the hallway, he immediately sensed a shift in the atmosphere. Unlike the others, the room was impeccably clean and bathed in a soft glow from the open window.

However, an overwhelming oppressiveness seemed to fill the space, causing a weight to press upon him as he crossed the threshold.

A shiver ran down Cyrus' spine as he felt the distinct sensation of being watched. He subconsciously looked around the room, searching for the cause. There, amidst the flickering candlelight, he caught sight of eyes that locked onto his.

His heart pounded in his chest, momentarily consumed by fear, but soon relief quickly washed over him as he discerned that the eyes belonged to a wooden puppet.

The puppet stood larger than any of the dolls he had encountered before, resembling a man in a finely tailored dress suit with an intricately carved cape. Its wooden eyes stared unblinkingly at Cyrus while a wide grin stretched across its face. It was the size of a small child but all too realistic.

...Time to go.

Cyrus was going to turn around, but something caught his eye. The puppet was sitting on top of a black book!

Cyrus frowned.

Everything feels too well placed! From finding the body to reaching the hamlet... A lingering feeling has been hidden in my head this whole time!

Gritting his teeth, He cautiously grabbed the puppet and carefully set it on the bed, ensuring it remained seat… While looking in a different direction.

Cyrus felt he had to play his part, or he'll never leave!

Refocusing on the book, Cyrus turned the cover over to the first page causing his eye to narrow.

I can read this!

He encountered words written in a language he had never seen before, yet he astonishingly comprehended everything!

The writing was from someone young. A son or daughter?

"Father has been teaching me how to hunt out here so I can help myself. He always has a smile on whenever I catch something."

"The woods are scary, and things keep happening when I'm alone. Father says I need to respect the woods and respect the fog to live in peace... I'll try."

"I've been hearing sounds from deep within the forest. I asked Father if we could go to the city for a while as I was afraid of what was making those sounds. I told Father about this, but all he did was frown, saying that "I'll think about it."'

"I stole a map to the city from Father. I don't know why we had to leave in the first place, but it's too dangerous here!"

A map! Cyrus' heart sped up as he read.

As if to answer his prayers, the next page had the map! Cyrus' eyes glued on the map, trying to remember everything!

There is a city nearby!

But he froze in shock when he turned over the next page to read.

"She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's dead. She's gone! She's dead."

Scrawled all over the pages were these words. Every page was a copy of these words until the last page.

Only the words "I'm sorry." were written.

A small thump reverberated, startling Cyrus and prompting him to recoil. He shifted his gaze towards the bed, where he observed the puppet had toppled over, now watching him from its new position with a smile.

Creepy... Wait... The crying has stopped!

His heart jolted when he heard the wood boards creak from behind.