Weird Doomsday: Listening to Death Rattles from the Wasteland

The cracks tore open, and behind the clouds, huge scarlet eyes stared from a distance. Waking up from the dream is not the place to return. Gray fog enveloped the wasteland, and eclipse distortions were rampant. From the corner of my eye, I lived between the white and the gray, spying on the remnants of the dead.