As Michael Swink stepped out of the mechanic shop after a long day he found himself greeted by the fog. A fog so thick anything beyond two feet was impossible to see. The air smelled of sulfur and the burning of wood. The quiet was deafening around him as she cautiously strode out looking for the parking lot and his truck. There was nothing to find, becoming panicked he rushed back to the direction of the shop only to find the fog getting thinner and he now stood at the outer limits of a small new England styled town. The sign read Ashbroune, the population spot was burned and the sign also looked to have taken a couple of slash marks by a blade or maybe a chainsaw? There were notable bullet holes in the sign as well. To the lower right in the tall grass was the top of a skull. Indeed the grass had grown through a human skeleton that was leaning against the post for the sign. The clothing was gone as was any possessions.

The air was dead still, not a single breeze to be felt. Looking up at the sky the fog or perhaps the clouds above obscured the sun creating only a bright grey spot in the never ending canvas of grey. Behind the mechanic a few feet from the road was more fog. Before the mechanic lay the town. there were a few cars that looked to be from twenty years ago. Most of the windows in the buildings were either boarded up or broken. The street sign read the corner of Redwood and fifth. The buildings were all commercial in nature. Everything looked abandoned, the cars had all the glass broken, the tires flat and too far rotted to hold air. Rust clung to just about any sort of metal, some more then others. 
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