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Manor's Stormy Night "Surprise" Game

Disclaimer: The story above is not written by me, it was from an event in Identity V called Manor's Stormy Night "Surprise Game". All I did was rewrite it so if the events went, we can still reread the story here.....and those who haven't participate one the event before can read the told story here! Once again... THIS STORY IS NOT WRITTEN BY ME. please do enjoy it.

PART 2

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Ah dear, yet another rain-soaked traveler in need of shelter. Welcome to the Manor.

The owner of this Manor is quite fond of collecting strange stories from all over the world. As such, guests here are playing a game called the "Surprise Box." Withdraw an item from the box and tell a story related to the item, you can get the Manor's "surprise" reward. However, these storytellers seem to be troubled by the lack of story inspiration. Can you help them find inspiration?
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> Story told by Andrew (Grave Keeper) <

          It's my turn...?

          Before I came to Laz Cemetery, I took a short trip. This incident took place during that trip.
it was a spring night. I could no longer suppress my fatigue, so I stayed at a farmer's house by the roadside. 

          It was in a remote village far away from the city, but the master of the house was very hospitable. He cooked me dinner and told me that I had come at a bad time.

          As you know, few people are willing to let someone like me lodge with them, and compared to the "misfortune", a situation is hardly worth mentioning. 

          However, on the following day, as I prepared to leave, I was informed that I needed to stay in the village for a few more days. Them man told me that the village was founded and managed by a group of well-respected elders. As the situation had become more serious on the day I arrived, the elders decided not to let anyone leave.

          And so, I went on living in this plague-stricken village, listening to constant cries and wails outside the house. However, a few days later, I heard the sound of nails being hammered into boards nearby, in the middle of the night.

          "Is someone building a house out there?" I asked.
           The master of the house did not answer me, but instead made desperate prayers. Candles burned in the room. Their yellow light leaped and danced across the darkness. I could vaguely hear him asking God for forgiveness.

          The sound of hammering lasted for two days. On the third day, everything went quiet. I peeped through the window and found that a simple wooden house had been built in the open space near us. Strangely enough, the hut was quiet at first, then became rowdy every few days, and then blared with howling and desperate cursing a few days later. After a while, the hut became quiet again... This cycle continued. At night, the awful sound resembled a dark incarnation, cursing life itself.

          I don't know why, but I always felt as though venomous eyes glared forth from within that hut. 

          "Your head is playing tricks on you. Just close the curtains."
          When I mentioned this to my host, he uttered these words and shook his head. But I knew that he had been praying for longer and longer each day. That was until one night, a strong burning smell filled my nostrils. I opened my eyes and found that the man had disappeared, and a fire was consuming the nearby hut! It had almost reached the house I was staying at.

          Finally, the epidemic subsided and I was allowed to leave the village. Before I left, I was invited to attend a sermon at the village church. I saw the walls of the former lodgings blackened by the fire. And the poor little hut nearby... All that remained of it was a charred frame.

          "This was the wrath of God."
          That day, the village elders stood in the middle of the church. The eldest looked coldly at me.
          "God's forgiveness comes only when the sinners are punished. All of our misfortunes, are due to His providence."

          I didn't know what that meant until I went back to my host's house. After I packed up my things and was ready to leave... I found that beside the ruins of the hut stood a wooden sign with something written on it.

          One barely-legible word could have be seen--"Ward."

SOME TRANSLATIONS : 
- Fatigue : Exhaustion, weariness.
- Plague-stricken village :  diseased looking village, a village that is struck by plague.
- vaguely : slightly.
- Epidemic : plague.
- Sermon : a talk of a religious or moral subject.
- Lodgings : a house for staying.
- Charred : burned and blackened.
- Providence : fate, destiny.
- Barely-legible : nearly unreadable. 
- Ward : a person who has mental illness under the protection of court.

HOW DARE SOMEONE CALL ANDREW A WARD?!??!  D:<