Vendrick had been moving on a large field near the middle of town. What had evidence of a well worn road in the middle of the field was completely empty. The entire park was empty, except for Vendrick, numerous filled holes, and many wooden boxes, stained with red. Vendrick was shoveling holes, placing a box inside a hole, filling the hole, and placing a rock in front of it. There must have been 30 more boxes lined up in rows for Vendrick to bury. As Vendrick shoveled, he seemed to faintly whisper an odd hymn.

[centre][i]Gastrandis babel ziggurate edenal...
Emustolronzen vir el baral zizzl...
Gastrandis babel ziggurate edenal...
Emustolronzen vir el zizzl...[/i][/centre]

The hymn, even though whispered, seemed to reverberate in his helmet, making it sound much louder. Anyone within the park could probably hear the hymn. It was sorrowful, and was in mourning for something. After some time, the hole he had dug was filled, and he carefully placed a box inside of the hole, then filled it up. On to the next hole, he moved to the direct right, and dug more. Why was he doing this? He couldn't remember why, but what did it matter? He had to continue to dig these holes. They would help protect whatever was in those boxes.

Not too far off, Vendrick heard many footsteps. 3 people? 4 people? 8 people? It was much too far off for Vendrick to accurately judge how many people it was, but many of those footsteps just felt fake. He didn't seem to mind all of this noise, and continued with the hymn. Perhaps the people would find him? Perhaps they would not? Whatever the case was, Vendrick was safe. He was safe from [i]it[/i]. Vendrick himself didn't know why, but [i]it[/i] didn't attack him.