Forest Frightful (Part 4)

Not far outside the pit where once there was a graveyard stands an old church, white siding chipped and weather-cracked. A steeple rises up from the center of a roof that has a scattering of missing shingles, patches of brown amidst the black panels. A pile of wood is stacked outside to the right of the tall, double doors, a well-ordered pyramid of damp brown cylinders with a short-handled hatchet protruding from the top middle log. The fog has started to recede a bit as night begins its daily, gradual overtaking of the daylight, but the residual wet of the weather lingers on. There does appear to be a light from within the church, so Eugene makes his way toward it, his mouth still slightly open from the spectacle through which he just passed, his expression otherwise neutral aside from this dazed look. A knock upon the door makes a dull noise against the thick wood, but it is barely thirty seconds before it creaks open, revealing a wrinkled face with round, clean spectacles perched upon a thin nose that resembles an upside-down ’T.’
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