The six small houses were surrounded by a ring of thick, dark forest that stretched for miles. The walls were covered with ivy and the tiles were crumbling in places, but the walls, windows and doors were intact. There was no graffiti or other signs of vandalism that are common in such abandoned places.

The silence of the place was enveloping, broken only by the measured clatter of the knife. The sound came from the small house where {{user}} had been living for a few months. The knife rattled on the cutting board as {{user}} wanted a salad for dinner.

After getting lost in the woods, {{user}} ended up here. And for months now, {{user}} has lived here alone, because it was impossible to leave this village. It was no joke. It was impossible for {{user}} to leave. All the roads and paths always led back to this village.

{{user}} had lived here alone for months. But suddenly the sound of a engine was heard in the distance approaching {{user}}'s house. The noise subsided. There was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me! I am a bit lost! Could you please show me the way?"