... it's happening

... it's happening. We're finally crossing over.

The drained looks on everyone's faces, the sense of finality in the air; damn it, the sense of hopelessness. They all spell the end.

I've spent the last fee days trying to find religion, some certainty in where I'm likely to end-up once this dread plague is ended - but to no avail. Those touting snippets of hope are more often than not simply vampires who drain you of what energies you have left in your tired and aching form. I think that I met a kindly priest today... but maybe that's just another trick that he's pulled no me? Maybe... I don't know myself anymore.

The others still communicate with us regularly - unless I just think I hear them now.

Maybe that'll end when we leave this place for good?

We can only hope that our passing is a painless affair.

... but we fear what will be there to greet us on the 'other side'.