It is dark, and cold, and wet.

It is dark, and cold, and wet.

It has been since the sun died. Now it’s an evil rip in the sky surrounded by a halo that poisons all it touches. But that’s not too often, because the clouds hang low and rarely part. So it’s always dark, and it’s always cold, and it’s always wet.

The dark robs you of knowledge and leaves fear. There are things out there, but light would make you a target. The cold numbs you from the outside in. A man may even welcome it as a form of respite. These men cannot be trusted. And everything is wet. Slick, slimy, fetid, source of mold, feeder of plants that rip and tear buildings over weeks, swarming with tiny sickening creatures. But who can survive without water?

Just felt like sharing.