No One Had Lived In The Village For Years.

The houses were empty, doors left open, windows broken by time and wind. Nature had slowly started reclaiming everything. It was the kind of place people avoided—even during the day.

But at night… something changed.

Every night at exactly the same hour, a single house lit up.

Warm light filled its windows, as if someone was inside. From a distance, it looked almost normal. Almost alive.

But no one had lived there for decades.

At first, people thought it was a trick. A reflection. Maybe electricity somehow still running through old lines.

But then someone got close enough to see it clearly.

The door was slightly open.

And inside… everything looked untouched.

A table was set. Food still fresh. Candles burning as if they had just been lit.

Like someone was expecting guests.

But there was no one there.

No footsteps. No voices.

Just silence.

Until the lights went out.

Instantly.

Like something inside noticed it wasn’t alone.

The next morning, the house was empty again. Cold. Dead. Forgotten.

No light. No food. No signs of life.

Except for one detail no one could explain.

The table was still set.

But now… there was one extra chair.