The Town That Never Sleeps

The bus drops you off at the Blackpool town limits as the sun begins to set. A weathered sign reads “Blackpool: Dead at Night” with graffiti scrawled underneath: “Population: Less every day.”

You’ve come here following reports of missing persons and strange incidents. The town has an unsettling atmosphere – too many boarded-up shops, too few people on the streets after dark, and an unusual number of missing person posters on every telephone pole.

As you walk down the main street with your duffel bag, you notice a group of leather-clad bikers hanging around outside a video store. Their leader, a platinum blonde with piercing eyes, watches you with predatory interest.

“Fresh meat,” one of them says, loud enough for you to hear. The others laugh, but there’s something unsettling about the sound – like the howl of wolves.