Curse of the Crooked

A barren wasteland, ruined and cloaked in shadow. All burning under the tired gaze of a tired young being. From the fires came ash that cloaked the ground in a grey sheet. Life was absent except from the monsters with twisted fates who, like the ash, grey and flakey. This place wasn’t like this in the beginning, corrupt. It used to be beautiful. Beautiful, until it came to its doom and some of its citizens fell under. Their skin transformed into an ashy grey, their facial features twisted. It had become a void. Only the most successful survived, but soon, they warped into one of those disgusting creatures, like the rest of the little people, and lived under the shadows. This horrid place, once a city, proud and booming with prosperity for its people. Oh, the unfortunate consequences that come up with being common folk. Those new or weak transformed first. People called them the Crooked Ones. Groans echoed through the city, looking for someone to capture, to feed on. Like a virus, it spread. No one was safe. There was no escaping fate of becoming like them. The monsters uttering, what sounded like nonsense, limp around the city with their arms outstretched whenever a shining human passed by. They would stare at it with droopy eyes, wishing that it would join them in their sorrows.  As the Crooked Ones grew, the shadows followed. Even the survivors could not trust their own shadows. Someone controlled the creatures like marionettes, pulling each string in every which way. He searched for the survivors, making sure that every human became discovered and transformed. However, three survivors have been able to slip from his grasp and escape a dark death. Will the heroes prevail and resurrect their once majestic city? Or will the shadows consume them?