Overcast

3.9

Charlotte jumps to her feet, checking that the door is tightly locked. The dead bolt is secure, but the chain is off since her parents aren't back yet. Oh well. Fuck 'em; Charlotte locks it anyway. She then sprints up the stairs, darting into her bedroom and locking the door. She further barricades the entrance, sliding a desk and a chair in front of it.

She then looks to the window, spotting the faint moonlight illuminating the darkness. She stares down at the neighbor's yard, cringing at the body lying in the driveway. Tattered remains are all that's left, looking as though a bomb went off. They lay in multiple pieces on the ground, limbs and head removed, torso cut through the midsection. The remains are soaked in blood, a checkered bathrobe lying underneath. Charlotte pauses in thought. The neighbor used to wear one of those. She thinks his name was Roy. Not much left of him now, though.

His corpse is a gruesome sight, but is quickly outdone by something even less pleasant. As Charlotte eyes the yard, something grotesque crawls out from the nearby woods. Something horrid; something a thousand nightmares couldn't reproduce. There, amidst the moss and leaves, a figure in a ragged nightgown lumbers forth. It moves with a heavy limp, its long gray hair obscuring its twisted frame. The figure is sickly thin, neck so long it could be confused for a snake. It clumsily wobbles back and forth, Charlotte instinctively repulsed by its movements. The creature towers over Roy's corpse, bending down to feast on his flesh. It sticks its lengthy tongue out, licking up blood like a parched wildebeest. Charlotte nearly gags, eyeing the gown the ghoul wears.

It looks like Roy's wife's.

Back at Lester's house, time continues to creep on by. He and his sister occupy themselves, Misty with a book, Lester with a magazine. Hours go by, and Lester soon drifts off to sleep. It's not a well rest. The situation has put him and his sister on edge. The two lay in the quiet living room, Misty on the couch, Lester on the loveseat. Misty stays awake. She'll find no rest this night; she knows at least one of them needs to stay awake.

Misty continues reading her book, finding it important to stay focused on something. If she doesn't, her mind may wander, trying in vain to process the events of the evening. An earthquake followed by a premature night. Just one of those is trouble; for them to happen back to back makes her all the more worried.

After a long night of no sleep, morning finally arrives. Misty looks to the nearby curtains, relieved to find traces of light shining through. As she takes a look outside, however, her relief is quickly nullified.

"...Damn. I fell asleep?" Lester says, stirring. "Why didn't you wake me, sis? How's it look out there?"

Misty stands in silence, gazing out through the living room curtains. Lester joins her at the window, stopping dead in his tracks. Overnight, the land seems to have changed; trees, streets and skies all look different. A thin fog fills the air, a light snow coating the ground below. The trees, once brown have gone black, their branches and roots more spindly than before. The streets are now cracked and potholed, sidewalks disheveled, mailboxes upturned. The lampposts, once white are now rusted, some of them toppled or bent to the side.

Misty stands motionless, her eyes cold and dead. "...What. The. Fuck," she says out loud.

Meanwhile, several miles away, a young man lies unconscious in a disheveled house. He slowly starts to stir, eyes squinted as he beholds an unkempt living room. He carefully sits up, Dave rubbing the side of his head.

"...You're awake," a familiar voice says. Dave turns, spotting a girl before him.

"Mmmm...where am I?"

"This is my house. You wandered in of your own accord. Remember?" Willow asks. She sits on a nearby sofa, the house less messy than it was before. "I apologize for knocking you out. It's just that you tried to leave, and I simply cannot allow that."

"...Why not?" Dave asks, rising to his feet.

"I can't tell you exactly. You wouldn't believe me, anyway. Suffice it to say, my presence here must remain a secret."

"I won't tell anyone. Honest. Besides, no one talks to me anyway."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot take that risk. Not when our plans have reached such a crucial phase."

"...Plans?" Dave asks.

"...Indeed," Willow replies, giving a faint smile. "You see, before long this town will undergo a drastic change, and with it the rest of the world will soon follow. The transformation will be great. In fact, it's already begun in some places."

"...What do you mean? What kind of transformation?"

"You'll find out soon enough. For now, I have an important task for you."