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May 31, 2005

The Eschatologist: Hunters

They crept quietly into the village; a generous term given there was really only a motley collection of hovels and farmhouses. The wind piled over the hilltops, screaming in their ears defiantly.

"What happened here?"

"I don't know. I imagine plague got 'em."

"Dammit! Let's get the hell out then!"

"No danger now, son. Nobody's lived here in quite a long while."

"Well, I'm not staying any longer than it takes. C'mon."

They moved in between the weather beaten shacks, covering their faces with damp rags in fear, barely noticing the sound of the rifle cocking over the biting wind.

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