Fortune, New England: A run down town, its streets lined with dilapidated houses overgrown by ivy. It is silent there. The air is oppressive. Smothering. Like clawed hands reaching out to wrap around its innocent passerby's throats. Common sense would say to stay away. Yet, no one does.
Over the years, Fortune has gained a reputation as being one of the most haunted places in the North East. A reputation well earned, inked in the blood of all the missing people and gruesome murders that plague the town. Its own unique pestilence.
Some chose to stay, enchanted by the macabre secrets the town holds. The locals warn them to stay away from the hills–that nothing ever good happens past the city proper. But as the death toll rises, so does its visitors.
What no one knows is that not-too-far beyond the town's reach, nestled into the woods is a magically protected place known as Tzarah. A town of demons, witches, werewolves, vampires–the beings who go bump in the night. Monsters. Creatures of nightmares. Behind the magical gates they partake in all sorts of unsavory acts, varying in depravity from the illicit to the unconscionable. Their feelings on the growing human population and Fortune's notoriety are varied. Many see an opportunity for an easy meal, but those more leery fear discovery. And actively seek to drive the humans out.
It's a lesson hard-learned, but eventually everyone comes to understand. Nothing good happens in Fortune, New England.