Dunwich: A Creepypasta Panfandom Game

Seems a lot of people have found this network. That's good. We can communicate from across the town. Thanks to Carol for that. Firstly, I'm not the Natasha from the Infinite Agency, but I'm probably a lot like her. I'm sorry to those of you who knew me there.

There's a lot of us around here, so I'm thinking we should create a command post where everyone can converge and we can figure out what to do from there. There's something weird about this town, outside of our unexplained arrival, and I don't want anyone getting stuck across the town line as a ghost. The ghost line?

I'm also hearing something about some kind of sickness going around. So-n-so's little cousin's best friend's got "angel fever." Whatever that means. None of us will have been exposed if this is a whole new dimension than the other we came from. Probably best to keep it that way.

I'm in the park across from town hall. Center of town. Look for the red head in a black stealth suit. Hair in braids. Let's try and help one another reunite and figure out what to do next.

Is anyone injured? And do we have any doctors?

ARRIVAL

The thick, ghastly haze of the mist, once practically opaque to the naked eye, fades and opens up to a nostalgic homegrown New England town. A friendly gazebo, freshly painted white sits on a neatly mown lawn at the center of the town square. Vehicles stop at the redlight while locals cross the street, birds chirp in the trees, and a school bus stops to pick up a few children in oversized backpacks. Pedestrians walk by you without a second glance. Did they not see you suddenly appearing out of nowhere? How could they not have noticed that all encompassing fog? And why doesn’t your obviously otherworldly attire catch their attention? This appears to be a small, close knit community. And it’s clear you’re not from around these parts.

But these are simply the first of many mysteries you’re about to discover.

The further you investigate your new surroundings, the more ominous this seemingly quaint and colloquial town becomes. There’s something dark beneath its pleasant guise. You can’t shake the chill at the back of your neck and the sense that someone—or something—is watching you. Then there’s the odd graffiti on the alleyway walls and the way the locals talk about certain locations. And while the mist is gone, there are places in town that make you reminisce about the mist. Places that feel supernaturally thin. Thin enough to let in whispers from the other side. Or maybe even screams.

And don’t worry if you hear laughter or the jingling chimes of carnival coming from the rain gutters in the street. That’s just your imagination. There’s nothing down there.

Nothing that floats.