Vitriosk
The Mocha Monster
Inner Sanctum Nobility
Daisy. Such a shitty name for a town! Especially when you normally picture flowers, or beautiful scenery when you think of the word. Meanwhile, what you get, is a run-down mill, a single self-serve gas station, a diner better left alone, a school attended by a scant twenty or so children, and a half dozen homes all overgrown and left to the elements. No one wanted to visit Daisy, or travel by it. Hell, just looking out your window from the freeway had most people glad they didn't live there. It was the last bastion of a once grand era of travel and exploring. A place of former glory and former was the key word. It has been almost a century since it was a booming tourist destination. More than fifty since the mill was up and running. Almost twenty since the diner served anyone other than locals. And ten whole years since the last gas station attendant gave change after filling a tank. It was a ghost town, a blip on a map that would be forgotten entirely...
If it wasn't for the Jensen's place.
A large, three story victorian built at the edge of the village limits. Absolutely immaculate. From top to bottom, every stone polished, every rose blooming, every window clear. The place stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of dead cedar trees it nestled in, and even more odd were the constantly manicured hedges that lined its drive. They were never out of shape, and yet no one ever saw the gardener. No one ever saw the Jensen's either. The house was empty, and had been for at least five years. Since the last Jensen moved away and never returned. Dark and horrible tales were told to the local school children about the house near the edge of town. Stories of ghosts, of murder, of bodies in the walls... You know, the usual to keep the little ones in line and rightfully scared. The truth was, that no one, not even the most wisened of the locals knew what the house had inside, or where the family of Daisy's founders had gone. But... no one cared either.
After all, the place was an eyesore in general, and no matter how proud that one house stood, the rest of the village was a decaying heap. Everyone trudged along, day to day, barely speaking to each other, mumbling incoherant gibberish about what if's and how come's. In the end, even with the stoic mansion stationed on the boundary of their forgotten relic, no one bothered. No one gave a shit about it. Tourists would try and snap pictures from the road, and a brave few would get closer for a few moments before rushing away as if in a panic, but no amount of polish could make the town of Daisy any less of a black turd.
Monotony, repitition, its all the villagers knew. From working at a junkyward beyond the limits of the town, to merely walking their dogs for something to do, almost everyone lived as if it was always monday. There were no celebrations, no events, no parades, picnics, parties or plans of any kind. Sad really, when a place becomes so desolate. So deserted. So abandoned that even the ones there are entirely trapped in a day to day they know not how to escape. Daisy. What a hole! Eerily quiet during the day, and dead silent at night. Even the few streetlights struggle against the weight of boredom, confusion and repitition. As if even they are tired of dragging on. Lighting up the ugly remnants of a town forgotten.
But the Jensen place... Its always beautiful, always perfect, always right there, keeping the life long villagers jealous. Entranced by the chance at one day reliving the glory of the past. Of having manicured hedges, luxurious rose gardens, and the few passers-by to snap photos of their home. If only Daisy wasnt.... Just... Wasnt.
If it wasn't for the Jensen's place.
A large, three story victorian built at the edge of the village limits. Absolutely immaculate. From top to bottom, every stone polished, every rose blooming, every window clear. The place stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of dead cedar trees it nestled in, and even more odd were the constantly manicured hedges that lined its drive. They were never out of shape, and yet no one ever saw the gardener. No one ever saw the Jensen's either. The house was empty, and had been for at least five years. Since the last Jensen moved away and never returned. Dark and horrible tales were told to the local school children about the house near the edge of town. Stories of ghosts, of murder, of bodies in the walls... You know, the usual to keep the little ones in line and rightfully scared. The truth was, that no one, not even the most wisened of the locals knew what the house had inside, or where the family of Daisy's founders had gone. But... no one cared either.
After all, the place was an eyesore in general, and no matter how proud that one house stood, the rest of the village was a decaying heap. Everyone trudged along, day to day, barely speaking to each other, mumbling incoherant gibberish about what if's and how come's. In the end, even with the stoic mansion stationed on the boundary of their forgotten relic, no one bothered. No one gave a shit about it. Tourists would try and snap pictures from the road, and a brave few would get closer for a few moments before rushing away as if in a panic, but no amount of polish could make the town of Daisy any less of a black turd.
Monotony, repitition, its all the villagers knew. From working at a junkyward beyond the limits of the town, to merely walking their dogs for something to do, almost everyone lived as if it was always monday. There were no celebrations, no events, no parades, picnics, parties or plans of any kind. Sad really, when a place becomes so desolate. So deserted. So abandoned that even the ones there are entirely trapped in a day to day they know not how to escape. Daisy. What a hole! Eerily quiet during the day, and dead silent at night. Even the few streetlights struggle against the weight of boredom, confusion and repitition. As if even they are tired of dragging on. Lighting up the ugly remnants of a town forgotten.
But the Jensen place... Its always beautiful, always perfect, always right there, keeping the life long villagers jealous. Entranced by the chance at one day reliving the glory of the past. Of having manicured hedges, luxurious rose gardens, and the few passers-by to snap photos of their home. If only Daisy wasnt.... Just... Wasnt.