A forgotten village in northern Poland, surrounded by whispering birch forests. Travellers speak of a ruined sanatorium buried in the trees, its windows black and hollow, its halls humming with strange echoes. The locals smile too quickly, their words clipped short, as if guarding something best left unspoken.

At night, the wind carries a sound that is not wind at all - like teeth clattering in the dark.

You’ve come here as an outsider. Perhaps chasing a story, perhaps chasing silence. But Wójtowo does not welcome easily, and the forest never lets go of what it hears.