It was going to be a challenge to build this land into something marketable, but Jack had confidence he could accomplish the task of directing the construction crews and make this desolate bog come alive. Jack surveyed the perimeter of the overgrown, damp landscape with familiarity. He grew up near here. He remembered dressing in sheepskin and chasing his sister to the creek, teasing her about getting eaten by an swamp monster. He paused a moment to remember to his sister, who had wandered down to the creek had been killed by an unknown assailant. Jack had wondered if his own actions in continually chasing her down to the creek had resulted in her death. He would not have long to wonder as a man with greying beard and blackened teeth appeared from nowhere out of the petrified trees.
With a pipe in his hand, he stuck Jack on the head with deadly force, “My land.”
-Word Count: 156-