Chapitre 115: Story 115: The Hunger of the Undying

The town of Cold Hollow had long been forgotten by the outside world, its crumbling buildings and abandoned streets swallowed by nature. The once-thriving community had dwindled to a handful of souls, too old or too stubborn to leave. They knew something dark had taken root in their midst, something that had driven the younger generations away. But they never spoke of it—not to each other, and certainly not to outsiders.

Late one evening, a thick fog rolled in, blanketing the town in a suffocating shroud. The streets were empty, save for the occasional scurrying of a rat or the creak of a rusty sign swinging in the wind. The air was heavy with the smell of damp earth and decay. The few remaining residents locked their doors and windows, praying for the night to pass uneventfully.