TRISH MARIE DAWSON

It’d be nice to say that looting the older buildings got easier over time, but that would be a lie. Every structure we set foot in held secrets, but the ones old enough to tell the tales of my great-grandparents were the ones that truly scared the shit out of me. For starters, I always expected the ceiling to give out and collapse on top of me, or a sinkhole to open up beneath my feet, but the most unnerving and unpredictable part was always the dead. There was no telling when they would appear, or if they would at all. And some were angry, angry souls.

– FINDING HOPE, COMING SOON

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