As Michael Swink stepped out of the mechanic shop after a long day he found himself greeted by the fog. A fog so thick anything beyond two feet was impossible to see. The air smelled of sulfur and the burning of wood. The quiet was deafening around him as she cautiously strode out looking for the parking lot and his truck. There was nothing to find, becoming panicked he rushed back to the direction of the shop only to find the fog getting thinner and he now stood at the outer limits of a small new England styled town. The sign read Ashbroune, the population spot was burned and the sign also looked to have taken a couple of slash marks by a blade or maybe a chainsaw? There were notable bullet holes in the sign as well. To the lower right in the tall grass was the top of a skull. Indeed the grass had grown through a human skeleton that was leaning against the post for the sign. The clothing was gone as was any possessions.

The air was dead still, not a single breeze to be felt. Looking up at the sky the fog or perhaps the clouds above obscured the sun creating only a bright grey spot in the never ending canvas of grey. Behind the mechanic a few feet from the road was more fog. Before the mechanic lay the town. there were a few cars that looked to be from twenty years ago. Most of the windows in the buildings were either boarded up or broken. The street sign read the corner of Redwood and fifth. The buildings were all commercial in nature. Everything looked abandoned, the cars had all the glass broken, the tires flat and too far rotted to hold air. Rust clung to just about any sort of metal, some more then others.

Michael was biting his lip as he glanced at the skeleton covered by vegetation. He was busy wiggling his toes, flexing his fingers, taking in deep breaths, and moved his eyes to look at the ruined city. After finishing the exercise of grounding himself the panic attack passed. Were his eyes paying tricks on him? Did he somehow die going out to his car after work? What was this town? He had never ever heard of such a place. Least not in his state. None of this made any sense.

Not a lick of it.

Pulling out his cellphone he sucked his teeth in annoyance seeing his cellphone wouldn't turn on. It was at 88%!! What was this nonsense. He glanced up at the skeleton before taking few cautious steps to the skeleton. This had to be a weird prank and once he discovered the skeleton was one of those cheap dollar store plastic rip offs. He'd be able to manage this somehow and get back at his coworkers. Lightly tapping the skull he heard a hollow thud as the skeleton that had somehow managed to stand the test of time fell apart. Michael had a knee jerk reaction as he cursed loudly leaping backwards from the skeleton. Immediately he was hit with a sense of wrongness. A strange sort of heaviness had descended upon him and his eyes darted about. It felt like his sudden outburst had drawn somethings attention to him and it was sending explosive shivers down his spine. He had to get out of here.

No he needed to get away from here.

Quickly taking a gulp of air he moved down Redwood, keeping his head on a swivel taking in everything the area had to show. He seemed to be in a warehouse distract of some sort. The warehouses were dark and boarded up. Eventually he came to a large warehouse with a chain link fence. He saw a paved road going in and glanced in seeing three Penske trucks that each had a label on the side of them. Bosmithy Furniture they all read. He quickly moved into the lot and saw 4 weathered concrete steps leading up to the loading dock. A quick scan of the dock revealed nothing super interesting. Each of the back of the trucks were open and empty. Glancing towards the warehouse he saw a large shudder door. It was slightly caved in from impact. Michael internally grimaced. He had one similar in his shop and the amount of force to get one of these to bend in at this angle would be deadly to a human. He saw a steel door next to the bay door and grabbed the knob expecting it to be locked but surprisingly it was open and he was greeted with a mixture of stale air that smelled of dust and mold and dim florescence. It seemed this warehouse still had electricity somehow, thought it seemed many of the lights in the ceiling were either broken or not working making the warehouse dim at best.

Making sure the door behind him didn't slam shut but barely close. He looked and saw the door had a deadbolt on it but he did not touch it yet. This part of the furniture store seemed to be a spot for the employees to either build furniture or make repairs to it. Most of the wood here was either rotten or suffering from extreme mold but after scavenging for a few minutes. He found a sturdy chair leg. It had two threaded inserts in it that would make for nasty puncture wounds when they hit before the wood. Some would find it crazy that Michael was arming himself.

No any sane person would find this move nuts.

Michael however was unnerved at the feeling that followed him from the sign. He had spent almost 15 minutes walking without the sight of another human. None even any signs of birds or other animals. It was another 5 minutes before the feeling of being watched left him and then he found the warehouse. This makeshift club was the best he could do for now.

Almost a mile into town and Michael would hear the bell of a shop door. To the left a man stepped out of the doorway waving his right arm. "Young fella you cant be out. Come over here! Hurry! Hurry! Get out of the street! Damn fool! They will see you. You're not safe there!" The man from the shop looked to be about late sixties. Caucasian and hunched a bit. He wore a white dress shirt under some dark blue jean overalls.

Just then a door to the right burst open and another man stumbled out and fell to the ground. He was a blond man mid twenties and blood running down his face from a deep head wound. Reaching up he cried, "Help meee..." But then only a minute later came a group of five others. They wore various clothes from various periods some dating back to the 1920's! Some were in their 60's while others were in their forties. All their clothing was worn and or torn. The group held makeshift clubs from various things, the legs of chairs, a broken coat rack, a tire iron. They stopped to look at the new comer before the man with a tire iron rushed forward and bashed in the blonds face spraying blood across the street. The wet crack of the young mans skull was sickening. Until the others rushed in and started taking bites of him. Grabbing an arm or a leg and burying their teeth into him as he gurgled on his own blood. The group stared at Michael while they started to eat the blond alive!

Michael searched the warehouse room for several minutes longer but found nothing of real interest. He approached the door that led deeper into the warehouse and opened it slowly, cautiously poking his head out. This room was much larger, appearing to be a showroom of sorts. As he saw many bedroom suites lining the walls along with tables and chairs. None of them were in good condition and he noticed there was only two or three lights on leaving most of the warehouse in darkness. Not letting go of the door handle he tentatively took a few steps out into the darkness. His hazel eyes straining to see if anything was moving in the darkness.

The furniture repair room felt oddly safe, but this dark cavern he was facing. It almost felt like a hungry maw waiting to claim him. The feeling was unnerving at best. The silence was eerie. Nothing in this town was going according to plan. It was then that he heard a loud crack out in the darkness. It was the sound of wood collapsing under immense weight. Michael's eyes narrowed as he could barely make out a giant shape in the darkness. He could not see it clearly but it seemed to walk on four legs and was easily towering over everything in the store. The Beast let out a low growl that seemed to echo in the darkness. Michael wasted no time in fleeing out the way he came. He didn't bother to close the door because the thing could not fit in through the door but that wasn't what made his haste. His hunch proved right as Michael leaped off the loading dock in a full sprint. He heard the massive bay door rattle as the thing collided into it. The metal bending outward before collapsing as the thing smashed into it a second time.

Michael saw none of this however as he rounded the corner of the chain link fence with the creature in hot pursuit of him. Michael was not in shape and his side was hurting from running who knows how long before he rounded a street corner and heard an old man call out to him. He glanced behind him seeing the beast had yet to catch up with him. He glanced at the people who murdered the man before steeling his resolve as he gripped his weapon tightly. He still didn't see the beast but he could hear it and he knew the beast could most certainly smell him if not hear all this commotion.

Michael ignored the burning pain in his side as he ran towards the group. They had not eaten much of the man and some were beginning to get up to intercept him when the great beast finally rounded the corner. Michael dove into the gap between them and almost ran into the old man before pulling himself and the old man into the store. Quickly locking the door he looked at the old man fear still evident on his face.

“What now? This glass door is not going to keep that thing out.”

More screams from the street as the creature leapt onto one of the men biting into his face. As the others ran the one remaining screamed and hit thee creature with the makeshift club fashioned from a chair leg. Only a few hit before the beast bleached a gush of stomach acid onto the man as he screamed and gurgled the rolling metal shop panel came down with a thud. The old man lit a oil lamp in the dark as he smiled. "That was quick thinking red. You're safe in here. This building has a sigil, so they dont want in. I doubt the other fellas will have anything to get in either." He moved to a chair in the corner and sat placing the lamp on a makeshift counter. The walls were aligned with pictures and a clock that wasnt working. The pictures were of people and a lake during the summer based on the swimsuits and other activities. In what might have been once a living room no a makeshift business front there was a few more chairs and a small end table in the center. The ceiling had a hole where a fixture should be but around the hole was a sigil burned into the plaster.

"Now then, My name is Miller, Adam Miller. I run this sort of trading post here in town. Lets hear about how you came here and where your from, but first, what year is it?" The man leaned back in his chair and smiled.

Michael's knees were shaky and gave out under him as he slide down a wall. This old man was talking like this was just a normal everyday kind of Tuesday to him. He looked up to the strange symbol in the ceiling before glancing back down to the Miller. He buried his face in his hands for a few seconds as he composed himself before looking up at the old man determined and raised himself from the floor and sat down in a chair near him.

Michael cleared his throat before beginning. “Well Mr. Miller the year is 2024...” His voice trailed off as the man seemed shocked to hear this but it did not stop Michael from his story. “I just got off from work at my mechanic's shop when I found myself lost in fog.” He glanced outside seeing nothing in the deep blackness. “I was scared so I turned around to go back to my shop but it was all gone and I was on the outskirts of this horrible place.”

He looked back towards Mr. Miller. “What is this place? I walked for what felt like forever in this wasteland of a city before finding a furniture store that looks like it has been abandoned for well over twenty or thirty years and then that giant creature chased me till you saw me and shouted for me.” Michael frowned as he recalled what happened out on the street. “Is food hard to come by here or something?”

“Why.....” Michael hesitated. “...Why were they eating him?”

Mr. Miller gave a knowing nod of his head and sighed heavily. "Yeah.. That figures. I should try to help you by saying the fog is a random thing as anyone can tell. No one really knows why it takes people. I've been about for, 2024 you say? Well hell It may come a surprise or not but time really doesnt move here. I've been here since 1941 which would make me 83. However I was 62 when the fog got me back then so I couldnt tell you how that figures. Some people if they are still alive, have been around for longer. This is or was a town of Ashbourne, Vermont some might say but no one really knows if its even in the U.S. Now then, lets get you up to date." Mr. Miller folded his arms across his chest. So this town is a bit of hell on earth," He held up his hand for any questions to wait. "I dont understand it completely myself but there are things that will help you. One being a map of the town. There are 41 buildings in all and seven streets with five cross streets. The fog..." He spits on the floor. "The fog surrounds the town, if you run into it, the fog just spits you back out in town somewhere random. The weather never changes so you can't get a real sense of time. The only changes are the day time and the night time. I say that with the note that its not real as you knew them. Day is just the bright time which lasts about eightteen actual hours then there is the night." He leans forward in his chair.

"Son, you dont want to be anywhere in the streets or a room without that!" He points up to the ceiling. "That sigil is the only thing that makes an area safe from creatures like the one out there or the other things you dont want to run across. Again dont ask, I didnt make it, and even when I tried to copy it in other buildings the damn thing doesnt work." His voice gets a dark serious tone. "At night The sky turns black but there are no stars. Just more clouds reflecting a red like they were on fire. Most of the buildings crumble to ruins and the few remaingin ones are half on fire. But the worst part are the things that roam about in the dark. Some of the easier ones like that skinless dog but then there are things... Well you better hope to never run across them because guns, blades, nothing works so just run. In fact if you are out at night just find a room that is safe."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Now I know this is a lot, hell I didnt know what to think of it when the guy Brad Hammon told me. So I get it I do, but its the truth. And there are some people here that went a little mad. Some turned cannibal because after the night the town resets. The food that was here on shelves and in rooms returns. People have fought and died because there is only so much and not exactly enough for three squares a day mind you. So they fight over things, some eat each other as its the only real supply source the town has is new people. Best I figure are three groups. Me and mine the trade group. Then the canibals they are always out scavenging for new comers to eat and stuff to take. But the third group well the are the believers. They hold up at the church at the far end of town. They have the only live stock of cows which kept them going. They always fight with others but we dont exactly have the weapons to give any side an advantage. Some how the fog drops people off and some people like us keep who we are. While others... well they change. Maybe they snap or the fog does it, whatever the reason some just go mad as soon as they get here. Those ones join one of the other groups. Now I'm sure you still got questions. I'll try to answer with what I know."

Without warning the clock on the wall began to tick. "Its night. Some stuff that is broke in the day works at night. Best you stay here for now."

Michael frowned. Everything that got eaten or drank during the day came back the next day? He rubbed the back of his head. This was a lot to take in. According to this man he had been here eighty some odd years and had not really aged much? He closed his eyes as a tear slide down his cheek. Did this mean this was going to be his existence until he got unlucky? Ran into cannibals? That thing that had chased him? Something even worse? After sitting in silence for awhile gathering his thoughts, he looked up. His eyes while red were dry now.

“Is there anything to eat or drink Mr. Miller? I just realized I haven't had dinner and I'm surprised I did not fall over being chased by that thing.”

He pulled out his cellphone when Mr. Miller spoke about some things starting to work at night and was slightly surprised to see that it turned on. Though there was no signal. He started going through his text messages. Looking at texts from various friends, and family members. He looked up as he heard Mr. Miller say something about the food in response to his question. Before a shadow moving below him almost made him jump. Looking down there was nothing, but he could have sworn something had just moved across his phone screen. Frowning he didn't take his eyes off his phone for a bit before he heard static starting to come from his phone. It sounded almost like he could hear a voice amongst the static, but he quickly turned his phone off and looked towards the old man. The thought of him not even having a clue what a cellphone was flashed through his mind before Michael looked up towards the sigil. Nothing could get in here right? Even if something weird happened through his cellphone?

The old man smiled. "I suppose for sitting through the speech and after surviving the first day a little food is the least I can do. We do have a stove and such but the power, water, and gas for the town only work during the day. So for now I'll just get you some water and jerky." He stood up and walked to the back room.

Outside were the sounds of the things Miller spoke of clear as day. Shrill screeches, thunderous roars, and of course in the distance the screams of humans. As Miller returned with the dried jerky and a large jug the building shook. "It's just trying to get inside. The building shakes but they never break in." The man handed over the items, then took the seat in the corner once more. Best to get some rest. Its all we can do at night. In the morning do you have any plans? I'm not as young as I once was. Maybe you could help me out? I need a good pair of legs to reach the other members of the traders, seems I dont really get out much. It would be good to introduce yourself and get to know the safe buildings from the others seeing how you'll be here a while. Maybe you might find others out there that weren't so lucky to find our side of town. We use to have phones but at night things come calling. Not sure what or why but if you have a phone you can talk to them." He glanced at the thing in Michael's hand. "Is that a new type of time piece?"

Throughout the night the building filled with the sounds of them from outside. Yet in the phone a soft whispering voice too covered over by static tried to tell you something. The voice was that of a woman. There was no signal from the phone symbol. Using the camera gave the room a odd look as if there was some sort of before and after filter. The buildings walls through the phone looked different as if the space was inhabited and renovated. The walls were painted a dark green and the floors were hard wood. There was a table and setting like the space was now a dinning room. Family pictures were on the wall but the thing that remained was the clock. The period looked to be late 1900s. The sigil on the ceiling was gone in the phone image. The old man was not showing up. Turning the camera to the reverse there was no image of yourself either. The whole experience was suddenly unnerving to say the least.

It was only a few stripes of jerky but Michael thanked Mr. Miller and devoured it quickly and drank deeply from the jug. Once he finished the meal, he had a slight chuckle at the old man and spent the next twenty minutes explaining to him just what a cell phone was and the things it could do. He could tell that the old man was amazed and the conversation went even longer when Michael realized he had to explain just what the internet was. Afterwards when he posed the question of just what Michael intended to do tomorrow. Michael laughed.

“Do I really have a choice?” He smiled as he continued. “You are the first friendly face I've seen in this town.” The smile slowly faded as he continued. “ If I spent nearly half an hour walking around finding no one. I need someone who knows things to point me in the right ways.” His voice grew more determined. “ I fully intend to make it back to my family and friends. I don't know how but I will do it.”

After a bit more conversation the two bid each other good night and picked opposite sides of the room. Michael stole a cushion out of one of the dining room chairs and laid his head up against it as he laid on the hard ground. The night itself was far from silent and the building occasionally shaking from the creature outside was making sleep not come easy for him. Eventually he took out his cellphone from his pocket and turned it back on. Initially it was silent but after being on a few minutes the static came back and the female's voice. No matter how he strained his ears, he could not make out her words. The phone vibrated like it received a text message but there was nothing and then the screen changed to that of the camera and Michael caught a glimpse of how this world should have looked.

He listened to the voice for a bit longer still unable to understand when he noticed the static started to cut out and he caught a fading word from the female on the other end before the phone unexpectedly cut off. “...Stars....” He frowned with confusion and glanced towards Mr. Miller who was sound asleep. Michael's eyes glanced out the window into the darkness unable to even see the night sky. He sighed and pocketed his phone and did his best to sleep.

With the way things were sounding from the old man his middle name might as well be changed to Danger.

The old man smirked at Micheals question. "Fair point, I guess not if you care about living. Sorry that didnt sound nice, but the truth hurts some times." He listened on and nodded. "That's a good attitude. I think you got a shot. I dont know about getting out but, well... you got a lot of time to figure something out now that you are here."

Miller rested on a rotting sleeping bed roll and a pillow made from a bunch of crumpled newspapers. Within minutes the old man was lightly sawing logs. Out side the screams and creature noises began to almost pick up a rhythm like the sound of the surf on a beach, rising then falling over and over. All the while the clock steadily ticked on.

In the night the phone didnt vibrate or beep as it should have yet there would be a message in the morning in the in box. The number that sent it was missing but the message remained in the screen like Pandora's box. "1122 E. main street apt 31."

The morning would be a few hours still yet the sound of Miller in the background softly humming as he reread a book for the unknown number of times by now. The clocks soothing ticks as its pendulum swayed back and forth would slowly decay and come to a sudden stop. Miller would wait for the new arrival to wake. After all there was no rush in this place unless the person was in a hurry to die.

Morning came far to quickly for Michael. He was groggy and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Mr. Miller gave him some cold coffee that had been brewed when the stove worked and some slices of bread with jerky. It was a meager breakfast but honestly more then Michael thought he would get in this hell. The two chatted a bit as Mr. Miller told him a few places to go in town as well as giving Michael a letter that would prove to the other traders that Michael was on the up and up. The old man had also given Michael a crudely drawn map. Apparently the old man had several and they were in severe need of updating as Miller was unable to make the trek himself.

They opened the metal shudder and glanced out into the street. The dim light that came in through the fog made the street feel ominous. Michael did his best to ignore all the new blood and twisted heaps of metal that had once been cars the day before. The great beast was still in the street, but something had torn it in half and then ripped it apart again. Each of its legs was in a different area of the street while its main body was impaled on a telephone pole. It's head was nowhere to be seen. Shivering at the sight he subconsciously gripped his makeshift weapon tighter for all the good it would do him, before waving bye to the man and he snuck off. He glanced at the phone again now that he was in the “daylight”. It was indeed off but somehow the address was stuck on the screen and the battery percentage was stuck at eighty-eight.

As he went from street to street the process was slow and almost painful. The amount of times, he had to quickly flee into abandoned buildings to let an unspeakable horror pass that somehow missed seeing him were to many for his liking. Death almost found him as he dove under a ruined car to avoid what could almost be described as a herd of deer. The creatures staggered about as if drunk and randomly their entire heads would split open revealing shark like teeth before releasing a murderous screech. It was under the car that he discovered he was not alone. There was a centipede the size of a small dog that attempted to lunge at him, but Michael got lucky as it seems they had both startled one another and it missed. Michael making sure the two metal prongs of the chair leg were in front of him fell onto the vile creatures head with a sickening crunch as he put his whole body weight on it pinning its head under him and into the ground. The many legged fiend skittered about briefly before growing still as the deer staggered past the car and off to another street.

...It got worse. As a woman stumbled out of the fog she shouted out, "Harold? ...Harold?! There was no time as a tendril from the sewer drain whipped up around one of her legs and dragged her slowly down. She screamed and clawed at the pavement as she was draged to the small opening. More tentacles surged up as the leg was torn off ans she fainted thankfully to the sight of the others grabbing and pulling her into the storm drain whether the pieces fit or not the creatures didnt care. The wet crunching and snapping of bone could be heard until the last piece was gone and the blood streaks remained.

Michael would have to run and hide during the trek. Some of the road signs hand been taken and probably turned into weapons. The fog made it nearly impossible to see the end of a street or even to the next intersection. Buildings were boarded up or broken into there was no in between. Though the streets had blood on them and some dried some streets seemed to be oddly blood free. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur or rotting meat. and yet some streets were scent free. It was a truly unnerving experience. It could easily be just the thing to drive lesser minds mad. Most of the map was accurate. Nothing really changed to the buildings or land marks where street signs were gone. The buildings that were marked as safe didnt stand out from the non safe ones.

As Michael looked at the map he could hear another womans voice. Looking up on the third floor of the building a window was open and a older woman was waving and softly speaking. It was hard to make out from the distance. She was a dark haired woman who was in desperate need of a brush. Her long black unkept hair blew about her as she waved a semi white piece of cloth at Michael. Beckoning him to come closer. On the map she was in one of the safe buildings and it had a trader mark telling him it had the good people.

The seconds that ticked by felt like eternity. Eventually he pulled himself out from under the car with his grisly prize. Taking a moment to wipe the dirt off his shirt and knees. He quickly tore its head open with the chair leg until he was able to pry the mandibles loose. Each one was roughly the length of a man's index finger and he carefully wrapped them in some cloth in found lying in the car seat, maybe there would be a use for that venom further down the road. It was then that he heard the confused woman. Michael's mouth opened to quickly tell the woman to hush but it was to late and he was honestly happy the fog blocked most of what happened from his vision, though the sounds brought him close to losing his breakfast.

Ashbourne was confusing on top of dangerous. Not that he could blame the other survivors for trying to make anything a weapon if it meant living just a day longer. When the woman caught his attention from the window, he was thankful she was not flat out shouting drawing attention to himself. Glancing around the street to make sure it at least looked safe he waved back and gave a thumbs up letting her know she had been seen before glancing at the building itself. She gave him a warning before disappearing from the window. No matter what happens he is not to utter a single word on the first floor. What madness awaited him now he wondered as he glanced at the building. It seemed to be a high-rise apartment building, least as far as Michael could tell he really couldn't see how tall the building was past the fourth floor due to the fog. He glanced towards the dark entrance of the building and frowned. All the windows on the first floor were broken and the double glass doors that would have opened into the lobby of the building was torn from their hinges.

Well this answered one of his many unasked questions about the Sigils. It seems Mr. Miller had only been half right. It protected his building because it was only one floor. It seemed in this situation it protected the woman's floor or worse only her room? He would figure this out when he got to her but first he steeled his nerve as he tried to peer into the darkness of the building. Hyping himself up he took a few cautious steps into the dimly lit building letting his eyes adjust. The lobby reeked of trash and decay, his free hand covering his nose but offering no relief as he tried his best to step around the trash piles and ignoring the faded blood strains on the floor.

Soon he came to the main desk in the lobby and noticed on the shelf behind the desk were rows upon rows of keys. It seemed this building had at least nine floors. Still remaining silent he noticed most keys were still there but made no move to grab them as he thought he heard a small sigh come from his right. Michael frowned thinking there should not be another survivor in the lobby. Noticing a faint florescence glow come from a room he swiftly and silently went towards the room to realize it was the elevator of the building. The doors were half open allowing him to glance inside to see a slender naked humanoid figure facing away from him sitting in the elevator. The small space was full of random things. As he tried to back away from the elevator he kicked over a empty can and bite his lip as he heard sickening crack from the elevator.

Glancing up he found himself face to face with a woman staring at him intensely. Her brown eyes were unwavering and unblinking as they remained locked onto his, but worse yet he noticed that her head was facing him while her body was still turned away from him. A chill traveled down his spine as fear made him look away and he power walked towards the steel door, doing his best to ignore the cracking and creaking of bones behind him as the woman followed him. Shakily grabbing the door handle he pulled the door open. It groaned on its hinges as he tried his best to focus on the stairs in front of him and not the unblinking stare of the woman who's face was now almost touching his. Crossing the threshold of the door, he attempted to close the door only to find the woman had gripped the side of the door preventing its closure so Michael just quickly hurried up the stairs and noticed she did not follow.

Once Michael reached the second story landing and saw the steel door leading to this floor was secured closed. He leaned up against the concrete wall and slid down in exhaustion. That situation felt...felt...intense. Like he had been chased by that giant dog yesterday but even with that large hound on his tail he did not feel that close to death as he had just now on the first floor. He raised his hand to his heart and listened to the rapid beating, before closing his eyes for a second to steel himself as he pulled himself up from his sitting spot.

He glanced at the faded sign beside the steel door. It looked like this floor had six rooms with three on each side and that was most likely the standard the other floors would follow. While tempted to push the door open and explore, he ignored it because curiosity to see what was in the elevator on the first floor almost got him killed. He had no desire to repeat such an action so soon. Slowly making his way up to the third floor, he noticed almost immediately upon reaching the third landing that the oppressiveness of dread that the building radiated seemed to vanish here. He looked to this steel door before grabbing the handle and pulling it open. Stepping inside of the third floor he glanced around curiously looking at a very random candles that were burning, allowing the hallway to have a soft sort of glow to it. Looking at the door he just came from he noticed several locks upon it and began to lock them, the monsters might not be able to get on this floor but he definitely didn't want any of those crazy cannibals letting themselves in if they somehow got past the first floor gate keeper.

Pulling the letter from Mr. Miller out of his pocket, he began to search for the woman.