The house lay forgotten in a long-abandoned town. Its shattered windows clouded by the night's frost. A sign clung to a rusted chain beside Caroline's head as she approached the door. Like the rest of the town, it had been completely covered by moss and ivy. It was also dead like every inch of flora in town.

Caroline followed the vines and roots to where they were thickest, to the basement. It was dark but for a pulsating purple glow. Caroline stalked toward the light's source, a beating heart pierced by a blade and enshrined in a mess of thick necrotic roots and vines. The blade pulsated, pouring energy into the heart which in turn pumped life into the rest of the shambling mound with rhythmic sickening wet throbs.

With his name called, the boy faded away. Caroline then proceeded to instinctively call out names, and with each name called a spectre disappeared. It took her almost an hour to finish the ritual but when she opened her eyes again the ghosts were gone and the town would soon follow. The fire was consuming everything. She stood in the only unburned stretch of land as far as she could see. Exhausted, Caroline simply sat down and watched the town burn.