The world moves through Cross, though rarely does Cross move through the world.
We are a strange and solitary folk. There are few who concern themselves with the greater happenings of the state, let alone the country.
A prime example of this took place on May 31, 1850, when the children of the Church of the Dead arrived in town. Many who came out to witness this group did so under the mistaken belief that they were greeting Christians from a distant land. In a sense, they were right. These were people from a distant land, but they were not Christians. Nor were they living.
The children of the Church of the Dead were exactly what they’re name declared: dead children.
They were a curious lot, and they spent a significant amount of time traveling from one world to the next. Cross, in 1850, was only one of many, many stops.
While the children were not in town to sever any people from there lives, a few men and women did die. Several died naturally.
The rest made the mistake of attempting to touch one of the dead children. No sooner had the child been touched than the offending individual was dead, crashing lifelessly to the earth.
They stayed for the entire day, and shortly before they moved on to the next world, they came to Blood Farm to eat and make merry.
Death, in all its many forms, is a common visitor in Cross, and the Bloods are always here to welcome it.
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