SAFE HOUSE
Once a refuge from the madness outside, the Safe House now falls to the Breach. Those who sought shelter here, a last desperate escape, achieved only to lock themselves inside with it.
MANSION
Old and forsaken, the Mansion has long been empty. But now slick, dark tendrils worm their way through its crumbling facade. In the gloom figures flicker half-seen and footsteps echo through the empty halls. The Breach has brought new guests
CARNIVAL
No more it hums with the life it once knew. Rusted rides screech as gears grind out a death rattle. The carousel horses frozen in wide-eyed terror as broken, warped notes bleed into the distant melody. Mocking the once joyous calliope
OUTLOOK
Once a lone watchpost against the vast wilderness. Now it stands empty, abandoned to the storm that rages outside. Inside its occupant gone, their fate unknown. But something else lingers still
THE LAB
They believed they could harness The Breach. The Lab stands testiment to their folly. The hum of failing machinery pulses through the musty air, punctuated by the erratic crackle of exposed wires spitting dying sparks. Twisted things twitch behind fogged containment glass as they wake
HOSPITAL
What was once a place of healing, now festers like an open wound. Warnings, last prayers and desperate scribbles smeared across bloodstained tiles as the smell of rot lingers as if coming from the Hospital itself
EMPTY HOUSE
The fireplace still crackles, clocks chime in perfect rhythm, the dining table set with a half eaten meal now a feast for the flies. Yet the chairs are empty, beds undisturbed. The House is still, the House is waiting.
THEATRE
Grand velvet curtains now faded, sag like weary eyelids over what remains of the stage. The audience captive in stiff wooden bodies and unblinking eyes, lifeless yet still watching, are fixated on the stage and the lone performer who sings in defiance of The Breach.