Croal

it receives little light even when the sun is at it's highest. Moulded papers litter the floor dating back to times long forgotten. A suitcase broken and bent lays open at the foot of its stairs and the face of a cracked doll lays along side. As you carefully place a foot on the first of its stone steps you can't help a foreboding feeling take over you and a sharp shiver to nudge its way up your spine. Although your conscience mind tells you that you're alone here you do not feel alone. The gentle whistle in the trees stripped of any visible life only add to this unease. As your feet finally touch the damp floor, you try yo