The stitch together dossier was made from old encyclopedias, tour guide's pamphlets and postcards. The pages were worn, fade to dark yellow, and crumbled.  But the beautiful pictures displayed didn't match his surroundings. This place had once been a sprawling city street. Now asphalt was cracked and faded, parts of it fell away into a dense swamp. A miasma of decay hung over the area like a foreboding shadow of some great deity. Twisted gnarled alien plants sprouted up from the water surface. Amongst the plants were vibrant colored flowers that always seem to shift spectrum of color based on the angle to the sun. Becoming deeper hues of violets and blues. The world was so alien, so different. Yet little things remained from the old world. A storefront peaked through the thick underbrush, the rusted red of a ivy overgrown stop sign, the bulky metal husk of an ancient car. But these remnants formed the world's ancient skeleton. The frame that supported the bloated body.  There was a deep rumble, a horrible croak from deep within the swamp.

Despite his best effort to enter the swamp quietly, his boot made a splash. He prayed that some otherworldly force kept prying eyes away. But as reeds crunched underfoot, he knew there was no such luck. The faint shimmer he saw on the edge of the swamp would normally have sent him into a blind panic. But given his current circumstance, it was the better choice to flee deeper into the swamp. Even in the glaring sunlight, he could see the shimmer getting closer. He rushes out into murky waters. But every step was a struggle to not sink deeper into the muck.  It was like the universe was playing a game on him. He was to be the butt of a cosmic joke. His boots sank deeper and forward momentum toppled him over. As he tastes the putrid water and gasp for air, sharp claws rend into his back. He struggles to free himself from his unseen attacker. 

Desperately clawing at his back, he misses the attacker by mere inches and his fingers grasp nothing but empty space. His face is pushed beneath the stagnant water, eyes and nose stinging, chest heaving. Suddenly he is released. As he breaks the surface, he finds no sign of his attacker. The water had become still but had been tinted red. The smell of copper hung in the air. From the shore line, he cast weary glances all around the swamp. Even if he was still alive, he had to move. His survival would depend on speed. First he had to make sure his backpack wasn't torn. A quick glance reassures him that his pack was intact. He continues forward following the shoreline deeper into the old city. Wood had all but rotted away leaving behind anything that wouldn't decay, like stone and metal.   

There was an all too familiar bellow carried on the wind. He stares into the sky and sees somethings that cause him to shrink. High up ahead the bat like Narphlems, known as demons to survivors, swooped from their perch. Anyone worth their salt knew to avoid them. The vampyre were bad enough. But these beasts were worse. 

He hung back hiding inside an arch way of a collapsed house until the beast flew past. He could hear the heavy beats of leathery wings upon the wind. They were heading back from where he had come. 

The trip would take several hours more and he had already been walking for several days. His feet ached, clothes torn, dirty, and stained, reeking of mildew. The journey leads him to Winberley. A spec of dust forever trapped in time, like looking at a photograph. The city preserved the old world's extravagant life style that was only matched by their decadence. Signs still remained of the true rulers of old America, the unseen puppets masters and string pullers. These people held on to the twisted belief that this world was theirs. But that view was nearly washed away by time. Here crumbling politic advertising still adorned the wall. Posters that encourage you to do your patriotic duty and that your vote counts. Along with warning posters. These were health and safety tips to help people survive until help could arrive. But based on the fact that he was here, he guessed the rescue never came. 

He wonders powers what it would be like to live during this time. When Russia and America were still great and vying for control of a crumbling world. Before nature took it back. When you could go to a massive indoor marketplace and buy all the food you could want. He saw old photos from back then. But then you would have to live through the collapse and rise of the vampyre. 

The thought of the shimmer, the vampyre's ability to camouflage itself, causes his heart to skip a beat. He rolls up his still damp sleeves. It was 1:00 pm in the afternoon and sun was almost at it's apex. He almost crossed Winberley. It wouldn't be long now.  He was suppose to check out this building called Beaumontt Gas-less Cars. Some poor grieving man wanted to find out what happened to his family. There was an attached file  brosure describing the building:  Beaumontt gas-less car production facility design to revolutionize the world. These cars run on miniature nuclear reactors. There was something barely legible scribbled at the bottom of the pamphlet. My family fled to Beaumontt unaware of the invisible danger. Beware those taking refuge within its walls. It's said the place is haunted by those that died whithin. 

A few hours on foot he saw the largest structure in all of Winberley stretching into the horizon. In front of him is a crumbling multi-story brick building. Massive smokestacks overgrown with ivy jutted from the top like a bizarre hat. The farthest southern side of the building looked entirely different.

Where the original side had been constructed out of brick, this southern side is constructed out of steel and lead. The symbol for radioactivity was plastered against it. He follows the edge of the building around a corner for fifteen-twenty minutes, every second marveling at the magnificent of the old world. He heard the stories. Buildings that pierced the heavens. Man-made islands. Walls that divided entire continents.The old ones built sprawling cities that could be seen from space. Great monuments like the Eifel tower and statue of liberty. Now they were all but forgotten but by the oldest or the most intrepid of people. In front of him were two ancient double doors. Like a sideways mouth of some giant robot. The doors were ornamental and elegant. Designed to show the grandeur of this factory's achievements. Now the beautiful patterns looked like monstrous gargoyles.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe6JLZXOxg7

Inside was cavernous stretching on into the inscrutable darkness. What little light escaped inside from the open door revealed hundreds of skeletons. Their poses didn't show trauma but slow decline due to illness. One by one they became bed-ridden and the rest of the survivors took care of them. One by one the survivors watched their loved ones fade away. Until they only had death to look forward too. The bodies had been carefully placed. It gave a sense of serenity, a peaceful end. He turns on the portable LED sun-lamp and revealing the unseen things suroundings him.447Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh0EPvsms3L