I'm typing away at my laptop, my fingers gliding across the keys with a smooth, familiar rhythm. Usually, I'm used to the flow of words from my mind to the screen, but this particular story has me feeling heavy-hearted. The task at hand is to write a news article about a recent kidnapping case, one that's left a community shaken and a family torn apart.

Writing about such a distressing event is never easy. The case itself is a chilling one: a young child taken from their home in the middle of the day. It's the kind of story that makes me pause and reflect on the world we live in.

Well, I can't really change the world, but I can shed some light on it...The details I've gathered so far are harrowing-the intruder found an open window and slipped in without anyone noticing. How the guardians had a window open and weren't there at the scene still baffles me as I'm writing. The kidnapper wasted no time grabbing the child and fleeing in a waiting vehicle.

As good as I am, I sometimes find it difficult to focus on the words as I imagine the fear and confusion the child must have experienced during those moments. I find myself constantly adjusting the tone of my writing, trying to balance the need for factual reporting with the sensitivity such a situation demands.

The police are on high alert, doing everything in their power to piece together the puzzle of the kidnapper's actions. Leads are being followed, and the hope of a swift resolution keeps everyone on edge. Each sentence I type is a reminder of the weight of their reality.

While the article must inform the public about the case, it's not easy to put aside my empathy for the family. My heart goes out to them, and I can only hope my words do justice to their pain.

Around me are people having casual talk-I'm in a coffee shop, waiting for my editor, Mariam, to arrive. We met in college, where she became my best friend, and now she guides me in my writing career. As I continued to type I saw Mariam walk in and sit down. For a moment, I stopped typing. Not because I can't think of anyone else to write about based on what happened, but because Mariam was looking at me in a way that said: You won't believe what we had just accomplished.

"What is it?" I said.

"Your article managed to get more views than The Moon. Oh, come on, don't tell me you're too busy writing that you won't even stop to see the results?" Mariam said.

I thought about what she had said, then came to the conclusion that she must've been right. Maybe I was writing too much and didn't pay attention to where my hard work was going.

"I...I should've known." I started, sort of smiling.

Mariam looked like she had something else to say, but mainly, it would've been in secret. She looked around to make sure no one was pitching in on our conversation and started talking.

"You heard about the mysterious shootings, right?" Mariam asked.

That question felt sort of vague. There were always mystery shootings in a sense, but what was Mariam trying to get at by asking her this question. Oh, maybe it had to do with the gun.

"Are you talking about the one that revolves around a Colt Python?" I replied.

Mariam nodded.

"Yup. There's been some reports revolving around the murders happening east of Macon. As I kept doing research, I noticed that all of them took place around this sketchy estate called..."

"John Estate." I finished.

Mariam smiled.

"What's weird is the fact that in each one of these cases, victims suffered wounds from a Colt Python, but the killers were completely different, according to the research. At first, I would've thought that they were the same person, just wearing a different disguise after each kill, but the visual evidence shows otherwise." Mariam said.

She took out a folder and slid some pictures towards me. I leaned forward to look at them. The first picture was the suspect of a man wearing a gray hoodie and the second picture had a woman wearing a gray hoodie, but it was the exact same brand and everything.

As Mariam kept on giving me pictures of previous suspects in different cases, she noticed that ALL of them, regardless of gender, age, and ethnicity, wore the hoodie. What was weird about this is that some of these people had a decade or more gap between cases. What's even more shocking is that all of them have been finger-printed for the Colt Python used in the case, but they tested negative. Furthermore, there wasn't enough evidence for them to even be convicted of murder.

"Holy shit, that's weird." I said.

Mariam nodded.

"I think there's a cult down there, but I could be wrong. Also, you wanna know something more sketchy?" Mariam asked.

Now, I was even more intrigued. What was she going to say this time? I start to listen.

"Every time there was a murder somewhere in east Macon, there was an unnatural occurrence in nature as well. For example, in one of the murders, during the Fall, instead of a tree losing its leaves, it started blooming as if it were Spring." Mariam said.

That sounded weird. I waited until she handed me another picture-and she did. I looked at it and couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Wait, hold up...this was taken right outside of the John Estate." I said.

"Yup, in Griswoldville." Mariam replied.

I stopped to think for a moment. Maybe I could write a separate report involving the mystery around the John Estate. It didn't have to be anything big, but just something that could be on the database.

"How about driving to the estate? You think there'll be people there?" I asked.

"I doubt it, maybe. When do you want to go?" She asked.

"Possibly next week." I replied.

And so it was settled. We were headed for the John Estate in Griswoldville next week.

...

The drive to the John Estate started off easy enough. The sun was still out when we left town, but as we got halfway there, a light rain began to fall. It wasn't heavy, just enough to make the road a bit slick. Mariam and I both noticed how the landscape seemed to change as we got closer-there were fewer houses, fewer cars, and definitely fewer people.

"Starting to feel like we're the only ones out here." Mariam said.

"Yeah, it's a bit eerie." I agreed.

The rain added a layer of mystery intrigue that I didn't notice until now. The further we drove, the more it felt like we were stepping into shifty territory.

When we finally pulled up to the entrance of the John Estate, I could see the tree Mariam had talked about. It stood out with its vibrant pink and white blossoms, and even though it was one of its kind, the other trees around it were still barren.

"That's the tree," I pointed out as we parked the car.

"Yep, strange as ever." Mariam replied.

We stepped out of the car, and the rain get less tense a bit. The ground was a bit muddy, but we managed. The tree was something else to behold-a burst of color in a sea of drab. It didn't fit in with the surroundings at all.

"Let's hope it's worth the trip." I replied.

Mariam locks the car and we start walking up to the estate. I still couldn't keep my eyes from glancing at the trees as we reached the gates of the estate. I was hesitant at touching it at first, but then, Mariam lightly tapped the gate and it started to open. I was a bit confused by this.

"So it is really abandoned...I'm guessing none of the sons or daughters wanted it? It's not on the market either, right?" I asked.

Mariam shakes her head.

"Nope. However, it would be cool to live in a place where trees bloom in the fall." Mariam replied, smiling.

"The history of this place is already a massive turnoff." I said.

I go past the gate and start walking towards the main entrance. The front of the house is almost covered in vines except for the front door.

"Someone's recently been here." I start saying, until I feel something hit the back of my head.

My vision is blurred, and I can barely move my limbs. I feel Mariam picking me up, opening the front door, and throwing me inside of the house. As I lie on the dusty floor full of cobwebs and ants, I hear the door lock. That was when I snapped back to my senses. Oh, no, god no...

I quickly got up and started panicking.

"MARIAM! FUCK! MARIAM WHY?!" I scream, but my screams merely do a thing. I was destined to be trapped in here unless I found a way out or called the police.

I quickly reached in my pockets for my phone and couldn't feel it. Damn, Mariam must've taken it right before she tossed me in the house. Naturally, I tried to escape through the windows by finding something to break it with. However, it wasn't that I couldn't find anything which could destroy a window, but most of the windows were barricaded as if they were trying to keep the person inside from escaping instead of protecting them from what was outside.

I start to think faster, roaming around the kitchen, then, the living room. It felt like I'd hit a dead end. The only sound in the entire house was probably me breathing heavily as I searched for a way out. While I was maneuvering down the hallway on the second floor making sure I watched my every move, I saw a doll staring at me from the end of the hallway.

I froze. The doll was dressed in a gray hoodie with a stuffed Colt Python in the palm of its hand. I start sweating a bit. I want to move forward, but I can't. I take one step forward and someone comes charging at me by breaking through one of the room doors.

"AHHHH!" I scream.

The person definitely wasn't Mariam, but they felt more than a threat compared to her. The person, or man, had slammed me on the wall and pinned me to the ground. He starts choking me. I...can't breathe...

The man is wearing a gray hoodie with a black mask on his face. While he's busy choking me, I look for something, anything that I can get to have the upper end of this fight. My fingers manage to graze a piece of glass on the floor and I quickly stab him in the neck with it. Blood starts gushing out of his neck and he is forced to let go of me.

I quickly get up, kick him in the face, and start walking downstairs. I didn't care to watch him choke on his own blood.

As I was descending on the staircase, one of the steps broke and I almost fell. I heard echoes of laughter from Mariam as the wood hit the floor.

"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!" I scream, with blood on my face from the mysterious man.

I continue to descend the staircase until I reach the bottom, but when I reach the bottom someone puts a bag over my face. I then feel two other people try to hold me in place while they carry me to another location in the house. My guess: the basement.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS! I SWEAR! LET ME GO! THEY'll FIND YOU! LET ME GO!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" I scream through the bag, but why did I go through such lengths?

I knew they weren't going to let me go...no way they would. I heard them open a door. They forced me to walk down the stairs and as I heard the sounds of the steps, I was certain that they were talking me to the basement-only, they didn't fully.

They took the bag off and told me to turn around. Right now, I was facing the bottom of the steps in the basement, and the only light that shined came from behind me. I slowly turned around and saw three people wearing gray hoodies. One of them was pointing a Colt Python to my head.

"Please..." I said, barely a whisper. I don't know what happened after that. I can't remember. I don't know if I'm dead or alive, but I do know that I exist somewhere-god-willing it's still not in the John Estate.