I Created the Myth of the Old Ruler

This house is a common three-story house in Massachusetts, with a large living room, kitchen and courtyard on the first floor, bedrooms on the second floor, and a three-story attic. Such a house usually has a garage full of tools, and there may be another one nearby. A rather hidden basement.

In such a sparsely populated country, many people have been influenced by doomsday movies and usually build a civil defense project in their houses. Even if zombies attack, they can survive underground for a while.

James and Wes came to the door of the house. They did not knock on the door in a hurry, but called twice first.

At night, in heavy fog, next to a deserted road, those who dare to live here are more or less capable. In this country where guns are legal, if you knock on other people's doors rashly, you are likely to encounter misfortune.

Lu Tiao also got out of the car. He could see the two people walking in the fog through [Real Sight]. Their shouts echoed in the empty world, but the owner of the house did not respond.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

James called twice more, but obviously, there was no response.

Wes took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The mist made his clothes damp. His eyes felt uncomfortable. He put them on again. Wes came to the door of the house and knocked on the door.

"Hello, is there anyone?"

Wes pushed the door open experimentally.

Surprisingly, the door didn't close.

"Hey, the door isn't closed."

As he spoke, Weiss opened the door and walked into the house.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

James urged, but Wes had already entered the room.

"No one lives here?"

Stepping out of the fog into the light, the slightly tipsy Thalia looked into the house.

"Maybe they went out and didn't lock the door, which was really negligent."

Wes said teasingly. He walked into the foyer. It looked like someone was actually living here. There wasn't much dust on the desktop and coffee table. The lights in the living room were dim and seemed to be extinguished at any time.

He glanced at the kitchen and found that there were vegetables, ham and cheese that had not yet been processed. Wes naturally picked up a piece of ham and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it.

"We shouldn't have come in."

James followed in. He saw Wes's behavior and immediately stopped him.

In foreign countries, if you are caught by the owner of this kind of illegal intrusion, you will be shot to death on the spot without having to pay legal responsibility. James doesn't want to die just for making a movie.

"What are you taking pictures of?"

Looking back, James saw Scott following with the camera.

"I want to leave a little record, uh, this situation is quite interesting, isn't it?"

Scott defended, and was about to put down the camera when he heard Wes's voice.

"No, don't stop the camera, this is real."

He asked Scott to continue filming while he turned on the faucet and washed his hands.

The faucet made a tooth-piercing sound of metal friction. The water that came out seemed to be stored in a water tank at home. It was slightly turbid. Weiss sniffed his fingers, frowned slightly, and could only pull a picture of the kitchen. Wipe the paper clean.

"What we want to shoot is horror and the unknown, isn't it now? Think about it, this lonely house next to the road, the people inside suddenly disappeared, a group of us came in to explore, what a good subject."

The corners of Wes' lips curled up, and he walked towards the stairs again, trying to go upstairs.

"What's this?"

Valerie, who followed in, noticed something on the cabinet, which was a picture frame.

There is a photo in the photo frame. It is a group photo. You can see an elderly woman and a young man taking a photo with this house as the background. However, their faces are blurred. It feels like it has been smoked, giving people a weird feeling.

"These two people live here?"

James took a look and felt that the photo was really uncomfortable, so he instinctively looked away.

Scott didn't shy away from it, the camera captured it and gave a close-up.

"The bedroom is upstairs. Maybe they are already asleep?"

Wes stepped on the stairs, making a creaking sound that echoed through the silent room.

"Wes, I think we should leave."

As James said this, his eyes were still scanning the cabinet. He passed over the weird picture frame and saw the candlesticks with thick melted wax on the cabinet, several dirty glass cups, an ugly straw and broken The doll was made of cloth. He moved his eyes and saw a pair of eyes.

Ding——

James' heart skipped a beat, and he saw those eyes staring at him.

They were a pair of cloudy eyes, and the original color of the pupils could no longer be distinguished. They only reflected James' face. Outside the eyes, there was a face covered with wrinkles.

"f..."

Before he could curse, James subconsciously took several steps back.

The dim light in the living room shone over, and James could see the other party's appearance clearly.

This was an old woman with gray hair and wrinkles on her face. Her eyes moved slightly and she slowly moved forward.

"Sorry, we were just passing by because the vehicle broke down, so I wanted to ask if I could help..."

James hurriedly explained. He looked at the old woman's hands and felt a little relieved until he confirmed that there was no shotgun or other weapons there.

The old woman did not answer James, but only glanced at the others, and her eyes finally fell on Scott who was carrying the camera.

"Uh, sorry, we are film students, Scott, put down the camera."

James shouted hurriedly.

Scott then reluctantly turned off the camera's recording.

"Excuse me, do you have oil? Our car didn't have oil before, and now it can't be driven."

James asked tentatively again, while giving Wes a wink to tell him not to move.

Seeing this, Weiss quietly took back his foot on the stairs.

Crunch——

The wooden board made a sound again, causing everyone to look over.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

Wes took several steps back hastily.

"...Garage, oil, door unlocked."

The old woman was silent for a moment before speaking.

Her voice was hoarse, like sand dunes blown by the wind, giving people a sense of stagnation.

"thanks, thanks."

James said immediately. He asked Wes to leave the house quickly and go to the garage to find engine oil while he stayed in the house.

"You live here alone?"

he asked.

"Yeah, it's been years."

The old woman responded and slowly walked towards the kitchen. Only then did James realize that the old woman was holding a kitchen knife in her hand. From the distance just now, she could insert the tip of the knife into James' chest at any time.

"We were going to Miskatok to attend the film festival, and we didn't expect to see this house next to the highway. It's so remote here."

James wiped a handful of cold sweat and continued.

"Miskatok..."

The old woman had already placed the knife on the bacon on the chopping board, but when she heard James' words, she stopped what she was doing.

"You can't go to Miskatok."

Her body did not move, only the head on her neck turned. The old woman looked at James and whispered.

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