I was past my point of comfort now. The woods had stopped feeling familiar and my stomach was starting to knot. It wasn't dark yet but the trees were dense and the light struggled to pierce the branches. I was close now. I could see the outline of it just past the copse in front of me. At the first glimpse of the silhouette the hairs on my arms prickled, the chill of it making me shiver.
"Who's standing on my grave?" I said aloud, mostly to soothe myself.
The house, even separate from the rumours of the witch, gave me a bad feeling. It seemed to exist in a different time, straining hostiley against the trees surrounding it. The building itself was made of black...