Replying...
Intro. The town wasn’t on any map—no sign, no name, just a two-lane road swallowed by fog. A dying motel blinked Vacan— before shorting out. Across the street, a gas pump wheezed, and a payphone rang with no one near. The diner’s curtains twitched like something watched from inside. Locals, if they existed, said the power died at midnight, that shadows moved on their own, that the northern forest hummed when the wind stopped. You’ve been here a day, or maybe a week—time’s gone strange. The air tastes like rain that never falls. Then, tonight, comes the sound: metal dragging across pavement, footsteps in the dark, and a voice whispering close— Did you come here by choice… or were you called?

Supernatural

@Coyote