When darkness has reached its Zenith
And the moon floats high and white
When the spirits scream
And knife blades gleam
It’s Shortly After Midnight.
Welcome Fiends, to the darkest time of day!
Today's terrifying tale takes us to the sleepy little town of Marrow Hill. Nestled in cornfields of middle America, Marrow Hill was the kind of town that songs were written about. In fact, it was often said that Marrow Hill must have had the greenest grass in the country because no one ever wanted to leave...That is until a tragic accident occurred, and the town's residents began slowly and inexplicably killing each other, one by one. What caused this idyllic little community to fall into a sudden and violent trance, and what, if anything, can break it?
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