It had been completely abandoned; a ghost town completely erased from the map. Secluded from the rest of the world, this place was now blocked bordered off by dead trees, thick fog and an enormous stone wall with a single metal gate for entry. A battered, wooden sign was set in the ground just in front of the gate. "Entry Restricted", had been written on the sign with dark red paint.
No one ever went there. No one cared to go there. No one could remember the desolate abyss. Only a lone sign set just outside of the trail leading towards the gate read the name of the dead village. It was called, "Village of Hollow".
What could possibly be inside of Hollow for it to be restricted and forgotten by the world outside? There was no way to find out. There was no way to find Hollow on purpose. However... One day, a group of people had managed to stumbled across its gates in the thick and unforgiving fog. They were a group of young men and woman, led by a few older chaperons traveling back home to their families to celebrate a traditional festival in their hometown. But their trip would come to a halt before the large metal gate to the foggy village, the sign in front of the gate no longer reading, "Entry Restricted", but instead reading... "Village Of Hollow. Welcome."
