Ten miles southwest of town, turn left on that old county road, drive for 20 minutes. It's on the right. That's all I'll tell you. I own that property, and I'll never sell. It's useless, barren, ugly land. It has to be there, untouched and undeveloped, forever. Or until I die.

She's buried there. Yes, I buried her. Yes, I killed her.

Four times.

Every time was justifiable, too. She had a jealous streak that death couldn't stop.

She's in a locked, chained, silver-lined coffin.

She still loves me. And she wants us to be together.

The hell with that.


For ideath's 100-words-in-10-minutes "How do you get there?" mini-quest

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