Chapter One Prototype

Main character and his lifestyle is introduced

Again I walk, obligated to leave my home. The road to town is lengthy some days, and every step tends to have me missing my time in isolation. I must break my comfort to create a character among the townspeople every 80 years. Without that character, I can not gain their trust. This is the year of my coming and three months have already past. Three months of fodder where I could be having fun. Stale, but the time of waiting is finalizing. I am exited to once again perform the rites I love so dearly.

The deciduous though, seem to be reaching out to me this morning. Their branches twist toward the walkway in an some agony I don't completely understand. To be an undead tree must be painful having the inability to be reborn, yet also unable to flourish. This forest is completely enclosed by them covered with a blanket of fog. It's like something out of a survival horror video game. I watched one burn for years as a child, coming back to it every day to see how it suffered.

It took a good hour, but I arrive at the forest edge. peering through the branches I can make out the run down houses, They have disintegrated over the years ever since the new mayor came into office. The people of Carcosa have always been lazy to an embarrassing fault, so I was never surprised when no one stepped up to fix anything.

The only building worth mentioning is the community building. It stands taller then the rest. the most populated and the most degraded of all structures. It was originally used for formal meetings among the carcosians, but now it's run by the youths who spend most of their time interacting there. And of course, as I approach it, I can see them chatting and smoking through the smashed windows. The majority of them are ignorant to all of what they do. This city broke them down to trouble makers and lifeless pigs.

Inside the place, you can see the real extent of the damage. Rusted pipes burst out of each wall and chipped paint peels off like flaked skin. graffiti layered one on top of the other tattoo's itself across the dimly lit hallways. shattered glass sprawled across the floor, and the morning sun fails to enter past a few feet of the windows. I take a left into one of the few restrooms. there, upon the wall contains a small glass reflection.

Author's Note

Not yet finished, always up for advice as the progress comes along.