Mothman & the Homestead

First came the Mothman sightings. People laughed. Then a highway pileup. A train wreck. A bridge collapse. Help came. Evacuations began. Then the border and the land around it became death traps. Every attempt to enter or leave West Virginia ends in a fatal accident. The military sealed the state. Supplies stopped. Broadcasts from beyond West Virginia went silent. The disasters continued. Hungry neighbors turned on each other. Raiders began taking food, supplies, and people. Is the rest of the world still out there? Nobody knows. You grew up in these Appalachian mountains. You saw things getting worse. You prepared. Deep in the woods, you built a life: a cabin, a greenhouse, chickens, and a pond. Food on the shelves. Firewood stacked for winter. A burial ground for those who tried to take what wasn’t theirs. Beyond your perimeter, strange lights drift through the trees. Unseen things call in the night. Whatever haunts these mountains cannot cross your boundary. You don’t know why. You’ve kept your homestead hidden. Aside from an old friend on the radio, you keep to yourself. And you like it that way. Today, two sisters come crashing through the woods toward your perimeter. Thin. Half-starved. Terrified. You draw your pistol. They stop just outside the boundary. Heavy wingbeats pass overhead. You see nothing. They’re begging for help and looking back into the trees. Ain’t nobody finds this place on accident. So how did they? Your boundary keeps the paranormal out. Who you let inside is up to you.