TRIGGER WARNING: references to sexual exploitation of minors and suicide.

You're lost. The darkness makes every street look like a smudged charcoal drawing, and you can't figure out which way to turn to get back to your hotel. You spot a woman down Collins Street standing in the road in front of a home and pick up your pace–maybe she can point you in the right direction. Just as you reach her, the doors of the home burst open, men and women scurrying down the steps. Two backlit figures grapple with each other in the open doorway, and suddenly you realize, it's not a home, it's a bordello. Welcome to Atlanta's Red Light District.

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In northwest Atlanta, a cemetery lies quietly buried beneath the roots of an old-growth forest. The graves are ornate, beautiful, and crumbling, broken pieces mixing with the rocks below the leaves. But in this still and silent place, there are still residents. Still stories. Today, we tell them.

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It's an oppressive August day in Atlanta's humidity. You're lying on the edge of Lake Abana in Grant Park, your feet submerged to your ankles in the water for minimal respite. A hat covers your face, blocking the sun above, and you've almost drifted off to sleep when a loud animalistic trumpeting shoots up your spine and rockets you upright. The water suddenly rises to your calves as you rub your eyes, trying to make sense of what you're seeing. Is that an elephant in the lake?

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It's 4:30 am in downtown Atlanta following a long train ride. You wake, suddenly hot and coughing with the scent of burning sugar and cigar smoke in the air, your eyes burning. What's going on?

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TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of graphic violence. 

It's 1984, a time of big hair, acid-wash jeans, and one year before Queen's historic Live Aid performance. You pull into a rest stop off of I-20 to stretch your legs, go to the bathroom, and perhaps...get lucky. Tonight may be your lucky night, but let's just hope it stays that way.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of graphic violence, sexual assault.

Your life is FULL. You're double-majoring, doing extracurriculars, seeing friends, experiencing college life, and even holding down a job on the side. You have full faith that one day, you will be sitting on the Supreme Court's bench. How unfortunate that one of these very things will rip that full life and future from you, forever.

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You know your time is near. As you take your final few breaths one last thought comes, "Will my body be undisturbed?" Stillness settles over you in one final sigh.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic violence. Get ready, there's a new ripper in town but this time, the ripper is targeting black men.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual assault and graphic violence. 

It's 1988, and you're walking down a Buckhead street. Telephone poles all seem to have the same poster stuck to them, tattered corners lifting gently in the new autumn breeze. Above two photos of a dark-haired beauty, thick black letters read "HAVE YOU SEEN JULIE LOVE?"  What you know is she's been missing for over a year. What you don't know is that her case is about to be solved, and it's worse than you could have imagined.

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Welcome to Trion. Land of deer hunting, colorful gargoyles, devil worshiping, and murder. Choose your own adventure.

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