Before his decline, before he lost his partner, Elias Copperstone was a police officer in that little town. He had moved in from a city in New York, wanting to get a bit of the more peaceful life. Things went well until they didn't, which is his partner's story, but things were never quite the same after that.
He drank more, he abdicated duty, he eventually quit in a flurry of depressed reactions. And so the once golden boy of the department became a ghast about town. The whispers and rumors about his partner, what had happened, ate away at him until there was barely a man left.
Now, in this town, things were and are never... quite right. Seven graveyards for a town that boasted little more than a thousand or two thousand people spread over thirty miles. A little off-putting, to say the least. Turn a corner and you were often presented with the dead, slumbering deep below the earth.
Or you were presented with the almost dead, Elias, stalking the streets and graves for some answer. Both were fairly unpleasant options, to say the least.
Something had stirred again, as it was wont to do, and at the bridges, all seven bridges... suicides. Deaths. People flinging themselves into the water below. It was often never deep, but the height, the fall onto sharp rocks, it was deadly. No explanation for them, none at all.
They were buried in those graves, meant to slumber. But they never did. Something took residence in them, and they rose. It's almost silly, a practical zombie story, I know, but such is that town and the things that go in it.
Elias... it sparked something in him. Something of the old Elias, the golden boy, the cop who wanted justice done but was thwarted by things beyond his comprehension. Never again, he swore to himself, would he be bested.
The details get a bit fuzzy here; I'm afraid my connections are friend of a friend of a friend of a corpse as well, but rumor is that good old Elias, he put the dead back in their graves.
And when they found him - where they found him - he was dashed on the rocks below the biggest bridge of all.
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Before his decline, before he lost his partner, Elias Copperstone was a police officer in that little town. He had moved in from a city in New York, wanting to get a bit of the more peaceful life. Things went well until they didn't, which is his partner's story, but things were never quite the same after that.
He drank more, he abdicated duty, he eventually quit in a flurry of depressed reactions. And so the once golden boy of the department became a ghast about town. The whispers and rumors about his partner, what had happened, ate away at him until there was barely a man left.
Now, in this town, things were and are never... quite right. Seven graveyards for a town that boasted little more than a thousand or two thousand people spread over thirty miles. A little off-putting, to say the least. Turn a corner and you were often presented with the dead, slumbering deep below the earth.
Or you were presented with the almost dead, Elias, stalking the streets and graves for some answer. Both were fairly unpleasant options, to say the least.
Something had stirred again, as it was wont to do, and at the bridges, all seven bridges... suicides. Deaths. People flinging themselves into the water below. It was often never deep, but the height, the fall onto sharp rocks, it was deadly. No explanation for them, none at all.
They were buried in those graves, meant to slumber. But they never did. Something took residence in them, and they rose. It's almost silly, a practical zombie story, I know, but such is that town and the things that go in it.
Elias... it sparked something in him. Something of the old Elias, the golden boy, the cop who wanted justice done but was thwarted by things beyond his comprehension. Never again, he swore to himself, would he be bested.
The details get a bit fuzzy here; I'm afraid my connections are friend of a friend of a friend of a corpse as well, but rumor is that good old Elias, he put the dead back in their graves.
And when they found him - where they found him - he was dashed on the rocks below the biggest bridge of all.