Detective Gast woke from a sweet dream. His clock read 12:00, October 31, but his face and the sagging features that it clang to suggested some time ..
A small road leading up to it, the cemetery lay dormant on higher ground - ground composed of decomposing flesh. Very little living flesh ever visite..
The clattering doors of the train birthed him. His shining black shoe made contact with the platform. He moved slower than the gaggle of commuters ar..
Over at the kooky side of town, the clock hit five and spilled workers, like fish guts, onto the roads. There was a flurry of cars and buses and taxi..