Follow Lisa as she attempts to save the only people whose treated her as more than property as the undead reign down on the last baston of mortals independence from the gods.
Sweat pours down Lisa’s face, tossing underneath the homemade quilt. A tight grip on her shoulder, causes her to shudder and flail toward the offender. Swinging with her free hand while scooting back, she feels a firm grip upon her own. Opening her eyes she sees Christ, holding her fist in his. Her room illuminated with grim radiance of the fading sun. A grey hue filters her room with the mood of melancholy. Looking around and settling on the intruder “What are you doing in h