
Heavy, thick fog rolls by, making it hard to see in any direction as you stand near the cemetery fence. The moans, groans and the growls are heard nearby, as teeth gnash, grind, continuously. Cracked voices still call out, “boood”, “bains”, they need you to alleviate their agonizing pain that can only be quenched with your life, or their true death, decapitation… . You’re safe out here; the curse only afflicts the dead – in there. But any attempt to enter you’ll be preyed upon – they seek reprieve from this tortuous existence that only eating you can provide.