Chapitre 209: Story 209: The Whispering Fog

The fog rolled in faster than expected, a thick, unnatural mist that clung to Damien Rook’s skin like icy fingers. He stood at the edge of Harrow Hill, a desolate place known to be cursed by the dead who once fought a great war here. The locals called it the Whispering Fog, a phenomenon that appeared without warning, swallowing everything in its path. Damien had followed the trail of the Zombie King here, hoping to find more clues about the undead plague that ravaged the land.

Lena, beside him, gripped her knife tightly, her breath visible in the chill air. “We need to find shelter,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The fog had a way of muting sound, swallowing words as if they were never spoken.