Cruel Dragonsjtrasdjyr

 

The once busy road that led to Clacton was unrecognizable as nature had begun reclaiming the now unused area. Gardens once looked after and trimmed to perfection were now rough and overgrown, returning back to their chaotic natural state.

Doors were boarded up tightly and some showed signs of painted symbols with meanings known only to those who put them there, but whoever put them there's long gone too. Broken cars and rusty pieces of metal littered some of the larger driveways, stripped from all but their most useless parts.


Clacton, once rich with life, hopes, dreams and aspirations had become nothing more than a painful memory. Were it not for the occasional bird call the only sounds in this town was that of the wind. The sounds of market vendors, playing families and a loving community were no more.

Noble men and women were once called upon from the fire station, ready to save whoever needed saving. Unfortunately this town couldn't be saved. Funnily enough it was mostly cats that had made this station their home.


You couldn't help but feel lost in this town now, even if you knew exactly where you were. It was a lonely place with only distant memories of what once was. But there was an odd sense of harmony as nature reclaimed what was theirs and resettled an old balance.

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