Dark Chicago      Sherman Park

“You want to know where the ghosts go to pray? Where the old blood never quite left the grass? Sherman’s where the city pretends it still has a soul.”

Location: New City (Back of the Yards)
Established: 1905 by D.H. Burnham and Jens Jensen
Access: Public
Connected Factions: ICB (Curly loves the park), Elm St. Saints (recently set up shop), Fear Crew (uses the park paths for meetups), CPD (occasional patrols), local parish-sponsored youth leagues

Description - Exterior

The park spreads wide like a sigh—rolling lawns, bent willows, and a sluggish lagoon that reflects more than clouds. The wrought iron fencing is mostly rust, the benches half-splintered, but the bones of its design still hold: curving paths, whispering trees, and the quiet tension of a place that remembers better days. Graffiti tags mix with carved initials that go back decades, some of them in languages no kid uses anymore.

Description - Interior

The fieldhouse looms red-bricked and tired, but proud. Inside, the gym echoes like a chapel of sweat and sneakers. The auditorium lights flicker on their own, and the basement—sealed since the ’30s—is spoken of in hushed tones. The old boiler room still thumps now and then, though nobody’s fed it in years. By the lagoon, the air turns colder at dusk. Some say it always has.

Public Face

To the city, it’s a proud park in decline—used by kids, picnickers, and a few stubborn families who haven’t given up on the neighborhood. The fieldhouse still hosts boxing nights and dance lessons. To the ward bosses, it’s a place to be seen during election season. To the old timers, it’s where everything started—and maybe where it’ll end.

What's Really Going On

Sherman Park sits on a thin spot in the Veil. The lagoon was once a place of ritual for immigrant women who whispered to things beneath the water. The fieldhouse basement holds a sealed chamber marked in runes predating the city. And something stirs in the roots of the park’s oldest trees—an echo of sorrow, rage, and ritual blood. Kids have gone missing here. Some come back. Changed.
Notables
The Fear Crew uses the south path for midnight oaths
A CPD officer assigned to the park hasn’t aged in twelve years
A blind man plays violin near the lagoon every Sunday—he’s never missed a week

Rumors & Hooks:

• A bloodstained altar was uncovered during a recent “beautification” project, then quietly removed
• The trees near the lagoon bend toward each other during solstice nights, forming an arch
• A former alderman’s child vanished in 1949—his shoes were found in the fieldhouse attic
• The playground carousel spins backward under the full moon
• The boiler room door is warm even in winter—no one can find the key
• A rusted coin was found in the north field with the symbol of the Mother etched on it
• A meeting here could avoid patrols and eyes—if the right tribute is left first
• Old gang legends say taking turf near the park demands a blood price
• The Veil’s thinness makes it perfect for communing—or getting lost on the other side