I will never get used to Agartha , its so unsettling at times warm and fuzzy at one time , in some god forsakenplace the next .
Looking back at Kingsmouth that term is strangely accurate forsaken by god .
Streets filled with autumn leaves and kids playing catch on the side of the street .
Streets now filled with zombies that munch on the corpses of kids who lost the game of catch .
The smell of decay hangs thick in the air , empty boarded up shops , traces of looting and gunfire .
Most of the survivors baricaded them selves at the police station , shooting at what seems a endless stream of zombies.
Zombies that once were their neighbours , lovers , friends , family or co workers .
Such a small community they probaly all know each other and a stranger like me is easly spotted .
The noise of ororchi helicopters is always present , helicopters that could easy take all these people away, thats the harshness of the secret world at times like these , the bystander is always fucked .
No diffrent for these folks , how long till they turn , and make a true ghost town of this place .

Am i any diffrent , what am i doing to save these people other then delaying a inevitebility , a quote from The Watchmen pop in my head "Its all one big fucking joke" .
The further i investigate the more i uncover that over the ages the dirt is impregnated with blood , who would say that this peacefull looking town has a history with death and violence .
Mass graves not far from the church now the angry dead crawl out of them , if the zombies were not bad enough , the dead and long since burried emerge to .

Going to investigate this morninglight camp smells fishy , but not as fishy as it does near the coast .
Dead fish and bloated bodies i hope ,my next mission is somewhere warm and sunny and less smelly .