The Stenham house was an ancient locked thing and nothing returned there except for crows.
At least, that was what most people thought in the area. And they were happy for it to stay exactly that way thank you very much. The Stenhams had been freaks of nature unfit for life in normal society. Words like witches and satanists had been whispered before the last heir disappeared some time after the war.
But if anyone had ever gathered their courage to show up at the house on a dark moon night, they would have found differently. And probably might never had told the tale anyway. Because really who believed in supposedly long-dead individuals who could appear out of thin air and disappear in a poof of smoke at sunrise? And yet… everyone knew crows were the symbols of magic and of the passage between life and death.
In response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s First line Friday prompt by Dylan