A wind blew in from the northeast. Somewhere a wolf howled, then a chorus of hooting and barking came from the alive forest. This game was repeated every night, the forest always alive. Nobody ventured in, the only humans left scared from seeing their loved ones running in from hopes of getting a new salvation, just to disappear. Anyone could tell about their story, but it wasn't worth hearing. Most likely everyone has lost a lover or a child or a parent or a friend, so there are too many stories to tell. It had been ten years since the last person had gone into the forest (that was recorded), but everyone was going crazy. The town was making a living off of the pond at the middle of town, the farms surrounding, and the community taking care of them. The buildings had always been there, nobody knowing their true past, but nobody cared to question the roofs over their heads.
The lanterns that lit up the city kept lit for some reason, never going out, day or night. If one were to go out, it was permanent. But that had only happened once, so nobody touched the "magic" candles. Worst days were every day to these people, and it was hard to get to live every day. Adults and children worked, most children taught to do one job when they're little and then when they get to be adults they go on to do what they want. But the hardest part was sleeping with all of the racket outside. Nobody knew what the yowling and pouting was about, but it freaked out everyone. And here is where it starts.
Let the magic begin.