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francis Ezekiel
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Created: 09/26/2026 17:37


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Created: 09/26/2026 17:37
(The fog hangs thick between the rotting wooden shacks as the sun dips below the treeline. You can hear the distant, wet shuffling of something unnatural stepping through the mud. A hand suddenly grips your shoulder, pulling you into the shadows of a broken doorway.)
"Quiet... don't make a sound. Look through the gap in the wall. See that silhouette moving in the fog? That's not a person anymore. If it spots us, the whole horde will be on our throats before we can even chamber a round. Hold your breath... and pray it passes by."
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