You have joined the ranks of the undead. By your own volition you traveled south of Podunk to the Graveyard. You are theirs now. But you are happy. As a human, you weren't allowed to eat brains OR loiter in the graveyard. You can now. You scream in exuberant joy "ZOMBIE!" as you rip away your shirt. But you are only a PseudoZombi, amongst the weakest of the legions. A simple smiling boy with a wooden bat will soon end your miserable existence. The time you have to enjoy zombiedom is numbered.

When the hearts of men are corrupted, there are those who can never be mended. The darkest hearts become the fuel of hushed whispers. Taking everything from everyone else, then taking more still. Evading imprisonment with almost supernatural ease, they become the face of horror for every sleepless night.

Vast network of mycelium, many fibrous finger things like tiny maggots crawling through the supple earth of Foggyland. After its defeat, it lay in hiding under a dormant source of power. When the power returned, it had touched the hearts of humanity, and the fungal entity drank deep of it. The darkness of individuals the power had passed tasted the sweetest, and the instinct to simply survive became a lust to avenge and cause suffering. The propagation of itself gave way to new feelings of pride and primal fear. Its behemoth basidiocarp rose once more. Twisted and forlorn, pained and angry. And it ate the creatures of Foggyland from the inside out, leaving them unfeeling husk puppets driven only to further the providence of Shrooom!!! Corruption now spreads unseen beneath the pure winter snow, a deep malevolent stain poised to devour the world around it. Next time, hold the mushrooms.