Out in the wilderness, if you'd go deep enough into the woods, you would find huge property closed off by a huge wall with two gates at the end of each side. In the middle of the private property was a three story house. The first floor was for bathrooms, a huge kitchen, living room, closet and two extra laundry rooms. On the second and third floor was where bedrooms were. Nothing but bedrooms. The reason for so many bedrooms and the extra rooms was because of the person living there.

Her name was Jenny. She was in her late thirties and she was a prostitute. She had about twenty two children. Of course, some of them would be in their teen age. While most are in the ten and younger age range. But there was always that strange child. Her name was Jessica. She was twelve years old. She had black hair and a checkered black-and-white dress with her sky blue eyes. She'd always be the creative one but yet scare or entertain the other siblings with her creativity by putting them into stories and telling it to them.

Her stories got so popular with her family that they had started pretending and making up games because of them. She was loved by all of her siblings, except her mother had problems. Jenny would smoke, do cocaine, anything illegal. She would drink every night before going outside to do her work. All of the teens knew her job and what it was. All of them loved her but would despise her when she would bring home a man. But the men wouldn't stay, they never did. Why? Because of the children of course. When they came home with Jenny they would complain about how loud and rowdy they are or how there's too many. Jessica would always step up to protect her siblings, even if it meant getting black eyes and bruises all over herself.

Every Friday, she'd obtain a new bruise. Every one of her siblings would be concerned, they'd even make drawings for her to make her happy. She'd always smile and tell them how she would love them forever. She'd sew stuffed animals, or replicas of them in doll form to thank them. They all cherished every one of them. It got to the point where they had to put them in the crates outside of their house because there were thousands of them. The children soon asked for the house to be recreated and asked for Jessica to be the designer of everything. Of course to not disappoint the children, she accepted it and did the best she could to make it as creative, and non-realistic as she could to keep her brothers' and sisters' mind going in a positive way.

When Jenny and the man she brought home would get too loud, the children would go outside and play away from the house. The teens would go and find their secret hatch and go in it and outside of the private property to run around in the woods. They needed a reality vibe once in a while and of course it was a good time at that point. Before it hit Eleven o'clock they would run back as fast as they can to the hatch and go back into their property. They rarely opened the gates because of the loud noises it would make as it would slowly open up. Of course this caused it to rust a bit. And boy did it rust a lot. The teens realized it could affect their health if the rust managed to pierce through their skin so before all the children went outside they would warn them, "Never touch the rusted gates!"

They would rarely see their mom. Jenny would cook for all of them, then just disappear. She would either be doing illegal stuff or be out with a man outside of their property. It got to the point where the kids asked Jessica to be their mom. Jessica of course would ask her eldest sibling, Ray to help her with certain stuff. Ray was the oldest sibling throughout all twenty two children. He was buff, broad, and really strong. He would help with all the carrying around the house, around the property here and there.

The teens kept a secret between them all. About the rumors they heard from outsiders. They heard that 'The Wraith', 'The Hillbilly' and 'The Trapper' lived throughout the woods. They would joke around about who'd become the killer if they went mental in the head. They would think up of names for each of them and draw what the killer would look like. They weren't serious, but they'd ask themselves if it would really happen.

After all, rumors are just rumors, right?