House of the Phoenixrswhs

 

The road that led to and from Ormkirk was now a network of vines, grasses and roots that had taken hold of every bit they could get. The occasional animal can be heard rustling in the tall grasses of the unkempt gardens or hiding in the wild overgrown bushes.

Remnants of packages and magazines still lay at some of the doorsteps, unopened and long forgotten. At least the animals got some use out of them. Many buildings stood precariously upright despite looking like they had no means to do so. It'd take just a slight nudge of a strong wind to tipple them all over.


Ormkirk, once a major hub for new businesses and young families was now partially reclaimed by nature. Silence had taken the place of the sound of playing children, talking neighbors and the sounds of a working community. The silence was deafening.

The lighthouse was once a beacon in multiple senses of the word. The once bright light on the outskirts of town was now merely a broken pillar and the perfect spot for nesting birds who gladly took advantage of this.


You could go anywhere in town you wanted, walk into any home and visit any previously private part of town, assuming it hadn't been destroyed by nature already. But not all was lost. In a way the legacy of this town lived on through the animals that lived here now, the spirit was still alive albeit in a different manner.

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