Halloween is fast approaching, but by the looks of things many have already dressed the part. Pallid faces stumble by, without a healthy sheen or spark of life among them. It’s a shame that I can’t have a normal conversation with anyone these days and have to settle for the grunts and moans of these brazen lunatics. Perhaps I set my expectations too high.
There is a basement to this pit of despair, and several more below it. Things will only get worse if I let them. I must keep my wits about me and try to remain positive if I am to survive this.
It’s uncommonly cold this October, with temperatures plummeting into the single digits. No doubt this is due to the merciless clouds overhead and fog that licks the ground. Its dreary cast swallows everything, bleeding the land of color and the dwindling hope that I cling to.
Adventurers that once came for a cheap thrill need only cross the Potomac. After a few steps, they’ll get more than they bargained for, punctuated by the deathly chill that blows through these ravaged lands.
Surviving the winter won’t be easy.
But surviving the undead hordes will take a miracle.
Hopefully I still have one left in me.
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