[Malcolm steps forward, taking a sip of the moonshine, grimacing slightly as it goes down.]

A few nights ago, the phone rang at, like, six in the morning. It was a warning not to go outside, where a thick fog had suddenly rolled in. From what we've been able to gather, the fog then attacked anyone who didn't answer the phone and anyone who stepped outside for more than a few minutes. Then it was gone, leaving bodies all over town with indications of death by asphyxia. Then a day or two later, most of the dead people? Came back. There's also the weird feeling of dread some places in town inspire for no real reason. The way the books in town are... just a little bit wrong. Basically, the town is designed to make us question what's real.