With each step you take, the forest seems to grow more familiar.
You have a feeling that whatever path you choose, it would lead you exactly where you're meant to be.

Some of the trees here are adorned with faded ribbons, trinkets, mismatched garlands. You examine random objects scattered around: broken clocks, dusty picture frames, chaotically spinning compasses, dislodged doors and shattered windows, remnants of lovingly hand-carved furniture...
A movement in the corner of your eye startles you — but it's only your reflection in a tarnished mirror.

There are tables dressed with moth-eaten tablecloths and cracked vases, empty ornate plates, cups, and utensils seemingly set out for you. The candles cast long, dancing shadows. A bed with plump pillows and quilted blanket invites you to lay down. The plushie that you lost when you were five years old is sitting on top of the covers.

…You would be fooling yourself to pretend it’s not creepy. Thoughts of previous visitors who ventured this deep, and their fate, sneak into your mind. You wouldn’t know where to go if you decided to turn back now. Conviction, or maybe hopelessness, drives you forward. You will confront the same fate, whatever it might be. Let’s hope that the creature turns out to be friendly.