The moon shone red this day. With it came the mad sickness that slowly engulfed solitary spirits. The angry moon knew the hearts of those it gazed upon, and every little fount of loneliness feeds it with unearthly darkness. It was a darkness that grew onto itself, and multiplied as itself wickedly consumed the abject hearts of miserable souls.
Perhaps there would be no dawn anymore. Dawn would be treacherous, when all that would be left would be shadows of yesterday.
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