Tyler was thrown forward violently and crashed onto stone ground, the impact rattling through his bones before he managed to roll and steady himself. When he pushed himself up and looked around, his breath caught.
The town was still there.
But it was no longer the same town.
There was no sky above him. No stars, no clouds, no moon. Only an endless ceiling of darkness, dense and suffocating, like a lid sealed over the world. The air felt heavier, pressing down on his chest with every breath.
The buildings had changed.
Where windows and walls should have been, enormous faces were etched into the stone—faces identical to the preaching old man. Their features were twisted and stretched unnaturally, mouths frozen in half-open expressions, eyes carved deep into the walls. From those eyes flowed thick streams of red blood, cascading down the stone like rain.
The blood did not drip to the ground.
It glowed.
