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This is a serial horror story based off of the game of the same name. I created this story with the express intent to be published. If you enjoy my efforts, please consider giving me your feedback, or even writing something better than this! I’ll post progress updates on my Tumblr . Memoriesontv 4 Crack Serial 11 | The Story So FarA young girl has worked her way out of her abusive family by taking any job she can get; anything to make money fast enough to disappear. Now she’s making her way to the highway. As she is on her way, something starts to happen. People are disappearing all around her. Is it a dream? A hallucination? Or both?“Is it real?!” The young girl said as she took stock of what was happening around her. She was standing on the side of the road looking into an empty parking lot, with garbage strewn across the ground and grass growing out of cracks in the asphalt. She began walking deeper into the lot until she saw a figure inside a car with its door open slightly. She walked up to it and looked inside . “No,” she said slowly. “It can’t be real.” The car was an old, broken down thing with gray leather upholstery and a torn seat belt. The figure sitting in the driver’s seat was partially turned towards her and had a blank, white face and blank black eyes .She walked over to the driver-side window and tried to talk to the person inside it. The young girl screamed when she saw that there was nobody in the driver’s seat . “Hey!” the girl shouted. “Are you all right? Please respond! Hey, I’m your friend! I don’t know if you can hear me but please let me in!” It didn’t answer . The girl looked around the car again, but it was empty. The same thing happened with the other side . “Okay, I get it now…it must be an illusion then…right?” The girl said as she began walking away from the car. It was then that she heard a loud engine noise coming up behind her. It was a motorcycle. It swerved to avoid her and she fell to the ground . “Nuh-uh!” the girl shouted. “It can’t be! You don’t exist anymore!” The motorcycle pulled over and parked at the edge of the lot, in front of a bent steel pole with a faded orange traffic cone at its end . The rider took off his helmet and hung it from his handle bar. He was wearing a tan jacket with black trim, dark jeans, and what used to be square-toed shoes; he had taken them off and thrown them aside. cfa1e77820