Dead folk are poppin' up like a whack-a-mole . . .
It's my fault. Sort of. Who would have thought that helping a friend bring back a few folks he'd accidentally murdered could mean the end of the world?
Here's what happened . . . when I raised a few folk, the veil between life and death was torn. Not a big deal. I mean, death sucks, you know?
But the dead aren't coming back right. They're on a murderous rampage.
And come to find out, there's an ancient god who wants to see it through . . .
The Book of the Dead says that the world will end when the dead rise to rule the earth. Well, that's a shizz-show that this hedge witch won't buy tickets to see.
It's up to me to end this. But will I lose myself in the process?
