Nook of the Dead
- By
Roofs as far as the fog lets you see. Nobody has lit a window in a long time.
Doors left open, gardens grown wild. Every house might still have something - or someone - inside.
After dark, the streets fill. Be indoors before then.
It stands above the roofs, easy to find. People came here at the end, hoping.
Fields nobody tends any more. The grass is tall enough to hide in - and so is what waits in it.
Away from the towns, some tried to hide in the hills. Not all of the caves are empty.
The sewers still run beneath the town. Dark, narrow, and not as quiet as you would like.
Deep underground, some held out a little longer. They left their things behind.
Not everything that bites is the dead.
With Nook of the Dead installed, the mirror shows what is waiting on the other side.
Where the wilds were, the sand came. The houses went down to their footings; the pyramid outlasted them.
Its gate still stands. Whoever sheltered behind its walls did not leave.
Something older than the rest. You will hear it before you see it.
Ring it, and everything near hears.
They do not walk.