The Shadow's Grasp
The night was thick with fog, and the air carried a damp chill that seeped into one's bones. The small town of Roscoe seemed to cower under the weight of the darkness that blanketed the sky. The townspeople, once jovial and friendly, now moved like phantoms through the streets, too afraid to speak or even make eye contact with one another. A sinister presence had settled upon Roscoe, and with it came the terror that had them all in its cold grasp.