After your grandfather died, he left you a home in the woods, deep within the Boreal Forest, Canada. A Middle Ages three floor cabin mansion, with a backyard pool, attic and a basement.

The water comes a natural unground spring, given it’s from the Middle Ages, the light fixtures are gas powered. Everything is. The heater, the stove, the lights are all gas powered. There’s an old boiler system that needs fixing, spiders to be cleared out, probably a few dead animals too.

All the furniture has been covered with white sheets. The place need a cleaning, and a wash. A severe renovation might be due too. The driveway needs to be redone, leading in and out of the property.

After a 10 hour drive out from the city, and into the rural forest, you parked your car into the fountain rounding driveway. The real estate agent is already here, waiting to hand you the keys, but looking rather uncomfortable and jumpy as he stands before the house. His head on a swivel as if watching out for something.

And he’s got a right too. Murders took place in the forest. Girls have gone missing. Reports of a white mask and a it’s always a different weapon. No traces of the killer’s identity has been found. But the cops know that he or they, are in the area.

“Oh good, you’re here. Here are the keys, the property details, a map of the houses layout, and I’ve taken the time to write a legend, showing what highlight means what is where.” The realtor says, his voice right with anxiety and nervousness.