Several disappearances and unexplained events have been registered shorty after the commercialization of an ancient statue linked to some legends from a mysterious place called "Reich der Finsternis" in eastern Germany, there is no know route leadin...
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Back to the ghost town
Chris drove quietly down an old road in an all-terrain van provided by the German agents. Liz and Bernard understood that only this type of vehicle could access a place so remote that no known road in the country could reach it. The path was unpaved and cobbled, making them think it was a trail once used by large groups of people, horses, and carriages. The Forest of Doom was cloaked in thick white fog, which cast an ominous, foreboding atmosphere around them.
During the trip, the group tried to ease the tension from their earlier confrontation by chatting about their lives. Bernard shared stories from his childhood with his brother, Jake, before they both joined the DFPD. Unlike Bernard, whom Liz knew to be reserved, disciplined, and deeply devoted to his faith, Jake was outgoing, rebellious, and had an aversion to religion. Bernard told how Jake always found clever ways to skip church with their parents and would secretly sneak out to party with friends.
Chris, for his part, shared a story from his time as a mechanic in his anti-terrorist unit. He recalled how, during a desert mission, his team was stranded when one of the vehicles broke down. Against all odds, and with very limited supplies, he managed to fix the engine using parts from an old, abandoned truck they found nearby.
Liz reminisced about her childhood visits to her grandfather's farm every summer. Her grandfather had emigrated from England to California in the 1950s, seeking a fresh start after the economic devastation of World War II. On the farm, Liz loved helping with the animals, especially the horses, which were her favorites. She also talked about her time as an FBI agent and how she'd been recruited to her current team through her brother after solving a difficult case involving child disappearances and murders in Arkansas. Bernard recalled that this was where they had first met and formed their close friendship. Chris was impressed by everything Liz had accomplished at such a young age—only twenty-three.
No one noticed the passing of time until they glanced at the van's clock: just after 3 a.m. The world outside was plunged into total darkness, and the road ahead was lit only by the van's headlights. Driving through the area felt like crossing a boundary between the real world and a dimension ruled by pain, death, and gloom. Liz couldn't shake the feeling that countless unseen eyes were watching them from the heart of this haunted place.
The van's speed gradually slowed as they entered the village. The tires crunched against the earth, breaking the meditative, sepulchral silence that hung in the forest. The tall trees reached skyward like skeletal claws, silhouetted against the moonlit, cloudy sky. Despite the eerie solitude, the vastness of the forest was palpable, stretching endlessly around them.
They arrived at a desolate village steeped in silence, broken only by the occasional whisper of the wind. They could make out triangular brick huts with dilapidated facades, their windows shattered and doors barely hanging on. The moss-covered tile roofs looked untouched for decades. There was no light to be seen anywhere, reinforcing the sense that the place had been abandoned for a long time. From the village entrance, a narrow stone path stretched ahead, with scattered houses on either side, all adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
