Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange lane.


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Building 8 "The Radio Broadcast"

“We will continue to report for as long as we can, though the weather here has become quite intense. As we look at the concrete here, it is clear something has been dragged across the pavement and into the building. The marks on the ground look like blood, but at this point that is purely speculation.

Alright folks, we are going into the building now. Must be...seventy, maybe a hundred years old. This report is being recorded with great personal risk. Whatever happens to me or my crew, we all believe that the truth must be found out. I hope you all agree.

Here we go. Into the house. The door does not appear to be unlocked, though it is clear that the lights are off, at least as far as we can see. I am opening the door now...so far nothing. The main hall is very dark. It is...hard to make out anything. Air is heavy too. It is a little bit harder to breathe. We are passing through the threshold now.

The inside looks untouched, though we have learned to not trust these signs before. The entire place is coated in a layer of dust, the coverings on the furniture haven't been shifted...wait a minute. There is definitely some movement in here...seems like there is a man in one of the chairs. Very hard to make out. The only light we are getting is coming in through the windows. We don't want to provoke a reaction yet...so personal lighting is a no go.

We are approaching him now folks...air is heavier now....What...Good Lord. What did they do to his face? This is by far the worst specimen we have seen so far...sir...sir? We are here to help. We aren't armed. Please. We have a vehicle. We can get you...oh...Oh God Mike! What they hell is that in his hand?

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