Well, shake it up, baby, now (Shake it up, baby)
The streets were empty. Cars were abandoned while their engines idled, the doors opened while their radios continued to play. Music spilled out into the streets, the sound of the instruments and singing echoed throughout the lifeless area of town. There was no sign of any disturbance, and the only remnants of life were the songs heard in the air.
Twist and shout (Twist and shout)
The town was small, barely a blip on the map; it was one of those one-streetlight places that annoyed people who had to slow down from 75 MPH to 35 MPH while passing through it on the highway. It had one major fast food chain restaurant and a bowling alley for entertainment, and a population that was estimated to be one hundred, but likely lower as the older residents passed away and the younger ones moved. Yet even a town this barren shouldn't have appeared as dead as it was, with pets left alone and neglected while television sets and radios played to empty rooms, and showers ran without any occupants. C"mon c"mon, c"mon, c"mon, baby, now (Come on baby) Aric navigated the empty streets with his axe in hand. Dusk was turning to night, and the town had only a few streetlights, so his investigation would have to be quick. Aric was drawn to disturbances in reality, something that was innately wrong in the world, and this is what led him to the small town of Roanoke. He came upon more and more signs that the people had been drawn out of their cars and homes, that they were called to someplace" As he came upon the bowling alley, Aric deduced that it would be the only place large enough to hold the populace, and his question turned more to why they all had gathered here, and who called them. Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)
Aric stepped to the entrance of the bowling alley; the door was unlocked but no lights were on, so he would be walking in blind. He took up the horseman's axe in his left hand, fingers tightened around the grip before he pushed open the door and took a tentative step inside. He heard the music playing an old song, but it sounded off " as if something was piggybacking each note and lyric. Aric felt a sense of dread, and something sinister in the air that engaged the flight or fight center of his brain.
Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby) Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby) Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby)
The eyes of the townspeople radiated a violent red, and their sharp whit e teeth littered the darkness like stars in the sky. The sixty-plus people all turned toward the outsider with snarls and growls rumbling through the crowd. Whatever they once had been, they were no longer human. Moving like one shapeless mass in the shadows, they collectively sprung at Aric, who gave a hearty yell and lifted his axe before he was swallowed up whole by the darkness. The sounds of his struggle against the horde lasted for a short while, until the music ended and there were no sounds left but the snap-hiss and pops of the spinning record on the turntable.
The streets were empty. Cars were abandoned while their engines idled, the doors opened while their radios continued to play. Music spilled out into the streets, the sound of the instruments and singing echoed throughout the lifeless area of town. There was no sign of any disturbance, and the only remnants of life were the songs heard in the air.
Twist and shout (Twist and shout)
The town was small, barely a blip on the map; it was one of those one-streetlight places that annoyed people who had to slow down from 75 MPH to 35 MPH while passing through it on the highway. It had one major fast food chain restaurant and a bowling alley for entertainment, and a population that was estimated to be one hundred, but likely lower as the older residents passed away and the younger ones moved. Yet even a town this barren shouldn't have appeared as dead as it was, with pets left alone and neglected while television sets and radios played to empty rooms, and showers ran without any occupants. C"mon c"mon, c"mon, c"mon, baby, now (Come on baby) Aric navigated the empty streets with his axe in hand. Dusk was turning to night, and the town had only a few streetlights, so his investigation would have to be quick. Aric was drawn to disturbances in reality, something that was innately wrong in the world, and this is what led him to the small town of Roanoke. He came upon more and more signs that the people had been drawn out of their cars and homes, that they were called to someplace" As he came upon the bowling alley, Aric deduced that it would be the only place large enough to hold the populace, and his question turned more to why they all had gathered here, and who called them. Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)
Aric stepped to the entrance of the bowling alley; the door was unlocked but no lights were on, so he would be walking in blind. He took up the horseman's axe in his left hand, fingers tightened around the grip before he pushed open the door and took a tentative step inside. He heard the music playing an old song, but it sounded off " as if something was piggybacking each note and lyric. Aric felt a sense of dread, and something sinister in the air that engaged the flight or fight center of his brain.
Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby) Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby) Well shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby)
The eyes of the townspeople radiated a violent red, and their sharp whit e teeth littered the darkness like stars in the sky. The sixty-plus people all turned toward the outsider with snarls and growls rumbling through the crowd. Whatever they once had been, they were no longer human. Moving like one shapeless mass in the shadows, they collectively sprung at Aric, who gave a hearty yell and lifted his axe before he was swallowed up whole by the darkness. The sounds of his struggle against the horde lasted for a short while, until the music ended and there were no sounds left but the snap-hiss and pops of the spinning record on the turntable.