The mist follows me.
Greedy fingers on my neck.
Growing thicker by the minute.
Darker by the second.
It will soon take form.
And take me away.
To the tunnels below.
Where The Dead hunt & play.
Smoke fills my lungs.
Trickling down my throat.
Filling me with their evil.
Soon I won’t be me anymore.
THE DEAD GAME
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