k.d. wilson

The eerie darkness from the pitfall of trees that surrounded Daniel’s home sent a shiver down his spine. He knew that there was something horrible going on deep within the woods; something so evil that he dared not to step a foot beyond the trees. Every now and then when the wind blew, he swore that he could hear the sounds of drums and what he believed to be a chanting noise drifting in the air. Arising from the porch swing; he quickly retreated back into the safety of his home. Daniel could not help but to wonder if he had made a mistake by coming here. Six months ago to the date he had lost his wife and child in a car accident then three weeks ago he was contacted by the lawyer informing him that his grandmother had passed away. He soon learned that he was the last surviving heir of the Mc George clan; he had been left everything, including this strange farmhouse house that was in dire need of repair. He had been there less than twenty-four hours and already he missed the smog and noisy city that he had left behind. As he reached over and turned out the light he wondered what this quiet little town in Owsley Kentucky held in store for him.