The Possessed Gorm Village

At the break of dawn, the shivering rabbits wasted no time to leave. They had to stay one step ahead of the Gorm. It was late winter. Like miniature cannonballs, snow fell. Icicles shimmered like priceless gems. The breeze was bitter, which made the rabbits fluffy brown fur feel useless.

As morning ascended, the band of knackered rabbits made out the silhouette of the gates of the abandoned Gorm village. It would take at least all morning, somehow it didn’t show up on the map.

“But why can’t we just avoid it?” mumbled Mackle.

“If we got there’ll be rest and food,” replied Macky in a bossy tone.

“Yippee,” cheered the young rabbit, who was shattered.

By sunset, the starving rabbits made it, seeking a rotten trapdoor embedded beneath the hair-raising walls. Then it spoke in a mysterious tone. Here’s what it said.

“Intruder here. You must enter with the right answer. What hides? Murder? Sneaks partner with death?”

“Dark,” they said, having heard of this riddle. It swung open. They stepped in. They seemed to be in a rotting cellar. The air was filled with the smell of ancient skeletons. Like a building that had been built by a five year old, eroded ornaments were stacked upon each other.  Cobwebs hung from the ceiling clinging on for dear life. Luckily, Macky found a good hiding place beneath a rickety chair that had been stacked precariously. Outside, the wind howled in rage. Inside, the rabbits quivered.

Milliseconds later, a swoosh could be heard then came a clink of iron. The silhouette of a figure emerged. Mackle nearly screamed in horror but he just managed to stop himself. It got bigger. The lights went out and then the door clicked open. There was a scream. Death had caught up to them.