They say the sky bled for days after the church fell. I was lucky enough to be out of the country for the worst of it, returning last week to a light shower of blood and a town stained as ruby red as the pews where the congregation met their end.
Nobody can say for certain how they were killed, though the official cause of death came when the church collapsed in on itself and buried them all beneath. It's been nearly three months since that day and there's not one person willing to try and dig them out for a proper funeral.
I know I haven't been around for a couple of years but I thought I was still townie enough that they wouldn't treat me like a total stranger when I came back. Apparently I thought wrong and now I won't know how my uncle and his family died unless I head out there to dig them up myself.
Given how there isn't a single shovel for sale in the entire county, I'd say it'll take a fair bit of planning.
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