I can hear ghastly winds in this macabre night. They fill the air with such silence. Walking in this realm is much like madness. Every sound, every chill, even the branches of trees that suddenly snare on your clothing, all feel like a deathly grasp. As if a hand from beyond the grave intends to grasp your bones so tightly the marrow begins to break from within. It's a gruesome world. The only entertainment worth watching is a sight that would make you grimace and look away. A carnival of ringleaders, dark poets, and creatures so unrecognizable you would never thought they would be considered a pet. Such as what you would imagine as a household cat. Those cute, lively, funny creatures that would chase strings, here they are abominations. Grotesque felines made of what seems to be anothers bones and stitched together to think of itself as a cute docile thing. but then again, the only strings it chases after are entrails that seem to be loosely hanging from another monsters body.
This is not a realm for the weak of stomach. I was born into it, and the only name i have is what i gave to myself. Sam Grey. Grey resembles me in alot of ways, my cold deathly skin, my grey heart, my spirit of no silver linings. I often hang around in the half-dead orchards looking upon the seemingly never ending half moon and i wonder in this dark, desolate place, is there anyone who would keep me company?