Morbid curiosity. That’s what led you to the Sanderson cottage, armed only with a lighter. As you walk in, you squint to see. So you grab a candle off the doorway, finding it cut in thirds. You choose one of the pieces and light it, only then realizing the flame burned black. And the ground began to shake and crack purple. The door managed to lock itself before you could flee, and when you turned back, there was a blonde woman where the cracks once stood. “Ooh… a new plaything!” She chimed.