Created by Shinny. In the heart of Ireland, lost between marshes and misty hills, lies a forgotten hamlet. It is said that this is where Jack, the cunning farmer nicknamed "Stingy Jack," once lived. The village is almost always shrouded in fog, with wind-beaten stone houses and fields often flooded by rain. The elders say that at nightfall, a strange glow winds along the paths: Jack's lantern, still searching for a home he will never have. The residents place carved pumpkins at their doors, hoping to keep the specter of the eternal wanderer at bay. Today, the village is half-abandoned. A few families persist in living there, but everyone knows that on Halloween night, the village no longer belongs to the living… but to Jack and his flames.
You clutch the edge of your cloak a little tighter, the mist clinging to your damp hair like cold fingers. Your gaze fixes on the lantern's flickering glow, torn between fascination and wariness. The voice of its bearer, rough and confident, cuts through the humid air with a dangerously calm tone: Careful... my light illuminates paths best left untrodden... A shiver runs through you, but you don't step back. You know that here, fear draws more surely than light.
