Laying Low
Sorry I haven't been as active, night inquirers, but I've been gearing up for a raid and it didn't go well. I'm bored out of my mind resting now, and the staples are barely holding my wounds together. Remember always have a saw-bones who doesn't ask too many questions on hand. A vet or a nurse friend is a thousand times better than a hospital.
So here's the scoop, me and three buddies lets say, a couple of bikers I roped in, we traced a suspected ghoul to a safehouse. Surely concealing a blank-body for their daily sleep. We thought we were in the clear since it was mid afternoon. We were dead wrong. An ambush was laid, and somehow the leeches (plural!) were awake. Alice went down first, and she was carrying our molotovs and expedient, so the house was ablaze before the fight even really started. We didn't have time to think. My drum-fed shotgun swept the room nicely and made quick work of the ghoul and shredded up one leech so bad he wasn't going to be walking for a week or two. Frank, surprisingly, shat himself and cut out, if I ever see him again I'm decking him in the face. Unfortunately Elm died almost immediately after they handcuffed themself to a leech so it couldn't dodge their machete, told them it was a dumb idea. Fortunately carrying around a corpse seriously slowed down the blank-body. Squaring off with the last leech in an inferno wasn;t on my todo list, but the dumbass wasn't expecting a flash-bang. Those heightened senses gatta be hell when it comes to that sort of thing. I was able to bar the door with Elm's Motorcycle so that the lot of those fuckers burned down with the rest of the strange cottage I found them in.
Everything goes to shit every time. I might need to lay low for a while. If you read about a drug bust gone wrong in Castle Rock, remember the cops always lie.













