Route

Rain trembled down the window, as the bus radio played in the background ghouls dancing to a macabre tune. The drivers bluish, and decayed hands caressed the steering wheel, as if doing some form of ghastly foreplay with the rusted, disease raddled bus. His maggot ridden feet slowly depress the clutch, the driver slowly turns the key and puts the bus into gear. From the back of the bus a ruptured screech sounds out, sounding like whatever made the sound was stabbed in the throat before it could finish. A tall figure approaches the front of the bus, light from other drivers on this never ending road illuminating its figure, a creature looking as if it was out of silver and pain. In a wretched and fresh voice it says "You know the way." The driver turns toward the attendant, revealing a face that is not a face only a Hiss-shaped hole, nods once and crushed the gas pedal. The long journey begins, May God's Save Us All.