[size=+1]
To live in this place is to live in constant fear of the inevitably of nightfall.
And night has fallen.
It's not like being alive. There's no warning as to when darkness is falling, no chance to get to safer ground when it happens; it's as if whatever keeps this town lit suddenly decides to hang us all out to the wolves. The wolves, in this case, being represented by the things we fear most in this place, even more than the encroaching night.
The Umbra.
Your very own personal assassin, tailor-made to scare the shit out of you, utterly and unerringly devoted to tracking you down and removing you from existence. You can't fight them, you can't reason with them; all you can do is run. Run, and pray to whatever the fuck you believe in that you're faster than it. Because if you're not? Well, that's it for you friend. Nice try, better luck next time and all that.
Tyson yells a warning to everyone and makes a run for the backdoor. Seems like the best option, really; if they're waiting anywhere it'd be out the front you'd think. I barely register what the others are doing as I do so. I don't want to register what they're doing; that would mean thinking about the fact that soon some of these people will be gone. Every time night falls, we'll lose someone. It's an inevitability.
Two others follow us out the backdoor and into the alley behind Tyson's bar; Danielle and Joshua have chosen to come this way too. Smart. Tyson turns to spot us over his shoulder and motions with his arm.
"C'mon, this way!" he yells, making for a fire-escape ladder built into the side of an old crumbling building, "I've got an escape route going up across the roofs!" The ladder looks unstable, to say the least, but being up on the rooftops sure as fuck sounds safer than being down here on the streets with the Umbra.
No time to be scared of heights, then; Tyson begins climbing and I'm right behind him, heaving my skeletal form up the escape route to the roofs above, hoping that Danielle and Joshua are close behind. It won't be long before they're in the bar and out here as well; we want to be out of sight before then.
I reach the top not long after Tyson, who helps me up onto the crumbling concrete of the building's roof. From atop this vantage point we can see the darkness unleashing itself upon Potter's Field in all it's terrible glory; where they walk, the Umbra warp the streets of the town, hindering us, shifting reality at their whim. I find it makes it very clear who the true masters of this town are; they're the owners come to clean the old family home out...
...and we're the unwanted rodents and vermin about to be exterminated.
"Jesus Christ..." I mutter, standing next to Tyson; my companion can only nod in silent agreement. Soon we will have to keep moving, stay ahead of our pursuers.
But for a few awful minutes, we stand as the silent witnesses to the horror unfolding below in Potter's Field.[/size]
"It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him."
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
To live in this place is to live in constant fear of the inevitably of nightfall.
And night has fallen.
It's not like being alive. There's no warning as to when darkness is falling, no chance to get to safer ground when it happens; it's as if whatever keeps this town lit suddenly decides to hang us all out to the wolves. The wolves, in this case, being represented by the things we fear most in this place, even more than the encroaching night.
The Umbra.
Your very own personal assassin, tailor-made to scare the shit out of you, utterly and unerringly devoted to tracking you down and removing you from existence. You can't fight them, you can't reason with them; all you can do is run. Run, and pray to whatever the fuck you believe in that you're faster than it. Because if you're not? Well, that's it for you friend. Nice try, better luck next time and all that.
Tyson yells a warning to everyone and makes a run for the backdoor. Seems like the best option, really; if they're waiting anywhere it'd be out the front you'd think. I barely register what the others are doing as I do so. I don't want to register what they're doing; that would mean thinking about the fact that soon some of these people will be gone. Every time night falls, we'll lose someone. It's an inevitability.
Two others follow us out the backdoor and into the alley behind Tyson's bar; Danielle and Joshua have chosen to come this way too. Smart. Tyson turns to spot us over his shoulder and motions with his arm.
"C'mon, this way!" he yells, making for a fire-escape ladder built into the side of an old crumbling building, "I've got an escape route going up across the roofs!" The ladder looks unstable, to say the least, but being up on the rooftops sure as fuck sounds safer than being down here on the streets with the Umbra.
No time to be scared of heights, then; Tyson begins climbing and I'm right behind him, heaving my skeletal form up the escape route to the roofs above, hoping that Danielle and Joshua are close behind. It won't be long before they're in the bar and out here as well; we want to be out of sight before then.
I reach the top not long after Tyson, who helps me up onto the crumbling concrete of the building's roof. From atop this vantage point we can see the darkness unleashing itself upon Potter's Field in all it's terrible glory; where they walk, the Umbra warp the streets of the town, hindering us, shifting reality at their whim. I find it makes it very clear who the true masters of this town are; they're the owners come to clean the old family home out...
...and we're the unwanted rodents and vermin about to be exterminated.
"Jesus Christ..." I mutter, standing next to Tyson; my companion can only nod in silent agreement. Soon we will have to keep moving, stay ahead of our pursuers.
But for a few awful minutes, we stand as the silent witnesses to the horror unfolding below in Potter's Field.[/size]
