Realistic or Modern satan in the suburbs

[boyguro]

cs | locations​

code by sadvalentine

are you ready for judgement day?

THE STORY

A cloud of warm spring mist rolls over the grassy hills of a small redneck town by the name of Graymoor in Mississippi, practically a ghost town occupied by only the most close-minded and superstitious Bible huggers of the South. This town doesn't grow on you, it grows inside you, in your soft warm belly filled with the lukewarm tapwaterfrom your kitchen sink and mediocre grilled burger patties from your local BBQ inn run by an old man with only six teeth and a rifle perched on his doorstep, like an old oak tree in the cemetery everyone claims to be haunted and even though you don't believe it, you avoid stepping on the graves, clutching your guts with its roots.

"HELL IS REAL". Down every dusty road, through every field, the dirty, beaten-down signs stand tall in the murkish sky, all praising to the same God. "Hell is real," repeats your mother at dinner after finishing her prayers, slicing down into the chicken on the table with same knife you saw her using to chop it's live head off that very morning. "Hell is real," repeats your geography teacher who only ever really talks about the Civil War and can't name a single democratic state without pursing their lips and blaming the Devil.

He's everywhere, him. The Devil. In your mailbox, on your bedside mirror, in the cornfields there seems to be no escape from, forever growing and ever since that Halloween you fell in and couldn't find your way out you promised to yourself never to go in them again, not because you got lost but because you could've sworn something grabbed your hand.

For a town so holy, an unusual wave of demonic occurrences have started to take over, and there are even more yet to come.

Not everybody in Graymoor is a saint. A common practice in humanity, the people are quick to blame and point their finger at the nearest troublemaker. An evil entity begins to manifest in the Church and people of Graymoor, persuading them unto a macabre passage, the characters must put aside their differences as an unknown source of paranormal force awakens inside them.

Hell is real. So who's side are you on?

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WELCOME TO AMERICA'S HEARTLAND ; GRAYMOOR ​

THE SETTING

To anyone who passes by, Graymoor, with a population of less than 900, is deserted, which to the inhabitants, unwelcoming and sketpical of outsiders, is nothing but pleasant, yet those who do come, never stay. They hit an animal while driving home from their first night. They only see it for a split second, a flash of brown-gray-white that’s not recognizable as any animal they're familiar with. They pull over and find that the impact has ripped off the tire wells, roughed up the bottom of the car, and left the front bumper hanging halfway off.

There's a dollar store across from their trailer. Its lights are always on but there's nobody inside. There's something strange about the gas station passing the fields selling sodas for 92 cents. The lights are dim yet the sign glows on the outside, there is no music playing through the speakers though they're sure they heard some during the daytime. The entire place is empty. They're sure the cashier greeted them on the way in.

Dusty barns with half-rotted roofs and vines creeping up the side, JESUS SAVES in peeling paint. Flowers grow through the foundations and over rusted tools. Clumps of forest in the middle of seas of corn. The woods are dark. You never go anywhere without a flashlight. Crosses made out of toothpicks and matches. Your aunt leaves them under your pillow, and you keep finding them in the fields. Everybody knows someone who drowned. Everyone's got a weird cousin that disappeared and never came back, nobody knows what happened but they never speak of the lake. Nobody speaks. Everything is a secret. The local library has two computers both from before 2005. Nobody watches TV. Church is not an option. Growing up, odds are teachers know who your older siblings are, everyones parents own a local business in town, you get pulled over and it's either your parents friend, or neighbor from down the street, or your friends parents.

You either fit in, or you don't. You don't want to stick around to find out which one you are.

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