Most of those who came in contact with it died, the ones who didn’t were scattered abroad and they struggled to survive. That which was unleashed during the release, caused the dead to come back, yet they were different. They were ravenous and murderous. They would bite, claw, wail and moan. They could not be reasoned with. This forced the survivors into hiding.
Time seemed to come to a standstill, the 90’s never progressed. Yet, one particular man stumbled upon a sanctuary, or at least it was unto him. It had a generator, food production, and clean water. Inside was a man, whom lay dead upon the floor. He must have been preparing for something like this but something had gotten to him. The man buried the musician and took up residence.
With time, the place remained unaffected. The man who had found it had finally begun to flourish. He had time to ponder now, he decided that the only good work he could do now was record the stories of those he knew and loved, some whom he did not know and hated. With nothing but the instruments left there, he began to record it all. He scrawled on the front of each recording...
The Institute 91’