The air smelled like burning wood. The sky, once painted in shades of orange and purple, had turned gray. Smoke slithered above the trees, twisting like a living thing.
A man sprinted down a dirt road, his breath ragged. His face was covered in soot, and his clothes clung to his skin, soaked with sweat. His name was Edson, and his eyes were wide with terror. Behind him, flames swallowed the neighborhood — fire leaping from house to house like a beast set free. But Edson wasn’t just running from the fire.
He was running from them.
Shadowed figures stood in the distance, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Their whispers cut through the crackling flames, words twisted and sharp. One of them stepped forward — a man with wild eyes and a twisted smile. The cult leader. He held something in his hands — a crude, blood-stained knife.
“You can’t run,” the leader called out, his voice calm yet ice-cold. “The ritual isn’t finished.”
Edson stumbled, his foot catching on a tree root. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air. The hooded figures were closer now. He heard the faint cries of people — not from the fire, but from deep within the woods.
Before Edson could rise, a cold hand gripped his shoulder. The last thing he saw was the leader's twisted smile — and the sound of whispering voices promising something far worse than death.
AFTER DARKNESS
Between these two games Which one is the BEST?
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AFTER DARKNESS
The Neighborhood
The air smelled like burning wood. The sky, once painted in shades of orange and purple, had turned gray. Smoke slithered above the trees, twisting like a living thing.
A man sprinted down a dirt road, his breath ragged. His face was covered in soot, and his clothes clung to his skin, soaked with sweat. His name was Edson, and his eyes were wide with terror. Behind him, flames swallowed the neighborhood — fire leaping from house to house like a beast set free. But Edson wasn’t just running from the fire.
He was running from them.
Shadowed figures stood in the distance, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Their whispers cut through the crackling flames, words twisted and sharp. One of them stepped forward — a man with wild eyes and a twisted smile. The cult leader. He held something in his hands — a crude, blood-stained knife.
“You can’t run,” the leader called out, his voice calm yet ice-cold. “The ritual isn’t finished.”
Edson stumbled, his foot catching on a tree root. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air. The hooded figures were closer now. He heard the faint cries of people — not from the fire, but from deep within the woods.
Before Edson could rise, a cold hand gripped his shoulder. The last thing he saw was the leader's twisted smile — and the sound of whispering voices promising something far worse than death.
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AFTER DARKNESS
WORLD OF DARKNESS 😅
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