Rot and Despair
The farm was once the most prosperous in the county — fields golden with grain, livestock fat and healthy, the great barn standing tall as a monument to hard work and fortune. Then came The Rot.
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Step inside, and the flickering lights reveal twisted shadows that don't belong to anything you can see — shapes that stretch too long, bend the wrong way, and turn to face you before you face them. The stench of decay coils around your throat like something with intention. From deep within the labyrinth of collapsed stalls and hidden passageways, eerie whispers rise up from the black — voices that know your name, urging you to turn back before the disease finds its way into you.
Will You Make It Out?
As you approach, the air thickens — a heavy, suffocating silence that presses against your ears, broken only by the distant echo of hooves striking rotted floorboards and the wet, guttural breathing of things that should no longer be alive. The Rot never left. It simply waited.