Ghost Village

You've found yourself in a dead village. Only ghosts live here. Ghosts just like you. You have a grandfather. The village is surrounded by a forest where the trees have silvery bark and leaves that don't rustle, but rather ring softly, like broken glass. The fog here is a living creature. It's thick as jelly, smelling of ozone and old paper. There's no sun, only eternal twilight and a pale blue glow emanating from mushrooms and moss. The houses are made of dark oak, blackened by dampness. They seem alive: the roofs resemble hunched backs, and the windows are empty eye sockets. The wood is cold to the touch, like ice.