Mark found himself slogging and slouching as he crept ever slowly through the city. He was certain that the ring of dark clouds above was responsible for his downcast feeling, it was like a wave of depression swept through him and sank him in its black puddles.
Once he passed the first few buildings, he began to see people, different people, of different species. The city was an amalgam of different life forms.
Mark heard grunts nearby and he turned to meet two creatures with the same features lunging what seems to be their heads at each other, they had no arms and resorted to stretchy headbutts.
They were so close to him, about ten inches away and he only noticed them this close to himself, his senses were declining.
'I have to find the portal.' he mumbled.
He felt the little gash that had opened earlier with his fingers, and found that it had mostly healed, only applying pressure on it caused a little pain.
Looking around, Mark noticed that the people seemed dull–definitely in appearance and action, they seemed just as slow as he was, but It wasn't that he noticed, their bodies, skins were all dull in color.
He raised his hands once he noticed this and saw that he as well had changed, his hands weren't as fair as they were, there was a grey tint to them, like a veil of thin darkness. It was like the city stole the lustre of its residents.
Mark looked up to the dark clouds, and then to the jutting spires, the buildings had a sad feeling to them, so did the people.
Mark saw a shop on the first floor of a building. It had a glowing neon sign and had something that he and the others didn't: life. It was teeming with life and color and Mark could see bright brown pies through the transparent glass, it was so alluring, all of his senses alerted and pulled him to the collection of sweets.
Alas, there was a problem. Drab creatures like the others seemed to be guards of the place, however unlike the others; they were bigger, and bolts jutted from places of their deformed skin. There was something clearly wrong to them, they were even more than dull and parts of their skin sunk inward. They were also stony in appearance, like a unison of dull, unimportant rocks and a humanoid creature. There was a feeling of wrongness to them.
In the shop, and through the glass, Mark spotted the chef full of color, he was a green round man with scaly skin and dexterous hands as he flipped and twisted rings of dough on his fingers and onto a hot flat metal. He was ever radiant and alienated from the drab outside his shop.
The food was all too enticing, it was like he was asking to be robbed. Mark's stomach grumbled, telling of its hunger.
'It must have been the beer that has sustained me to this point.'
Mark's eyes gravitated to the neon sign once again and this time, he squinted his eyes as he noticed a detail that had evaded his attention previously, a smaller writing was beneath the name of the shop.
"Organs accepted as payment as well." He read aloud.
"Organs." He repeated with a mutter, a chill ran through his spine. Reading it, he made his conclusion.
The undead man was right, this place, the city was a dystopia with massive inequalities among its residents, the undead villagers had warned him.
Although the scent, appearance and color of the shop sought to rein him in, he resisted and eventually looked away, ignoring its existence.
He had begun walking away when he heard weak groans and blows and he turned to see the strange guards sinking their massive fists into a creature he couldn't quite make off. With each blow, there was a crunch, until there were no more groans and dark blood spilled from the beaten lifeless body.
Then dog-like beasts like the one he had seen feeding on that creature came from the corner and began feeding on the corpse, tearing its flesh like it was butter.
Mark hastened his steps and left the scene, close to hyperventilating. The gore was simply too much.
He took refuge behind a building and exhaled and inhaled deeply. Once that was over, he began ruminating.
'Where could the portal be? Do I have to look through the city?'
In the middle of his thoughts came the words of the cat guardian.
'There's only one path, and it's forward.'
"One path and forward." His lips moved with the utterance.
"As long as I take steps forward, I should meet it. The shop was a test!" He realized, regardless of whatever turn he could have made, the outcome was going to be the same, there were landmarks to pass, and the shop was one of them.
He shivered slightly thinking that the battered and eaten corpse could easily have been him, had he given way to the temptation.
'Creative the guardian said, it didn't mention cruel.'
He opened his information sheet and checked through his quests. Nothing new, the old ones still hung however.
With a sigh, he dismissed the sheet and continued his journey.
He heard crackles from above as some beings on brooms flew above him, capturing his attention till they were out of sight.
Broken people lay around, littering the otherwise beautiful buildings, they sat, appearing lifeless, while some walked and others fought.
And for the first time, Mark realized how quickly he was becoming one of them, he wasn't out of place, he looked just as depressed and his shoulders were just as slouched as the others.
His breath hung upon the realization, the room with will was slowly making him part of itself, he was slowly being dissolved.
He would be ridden with sweatbeads had it been in any other place, but that was too lifelike, too human for the city to permit.
He hastened his steps and although he noticed he moved a little more quickly, he was still not as fast as his usual pace.
'I need to get out of here quick!'