“All hail the Kindred.” Chanted along the narrow noir streets of Moscow. Carrion plaques in the air with an ongoing carnage following. What do I do? What did I say? All I did was have a staring contest with the doll in the decay. Somehow I won, but what terror lurked the stay. No monsters no horror. I seen my reflection scattered like brains.
What ever happened to the people that stayed. A lonely world in a lonely state, but what a hell of a plaque. Months to years are sincere. But I woke up in a devastated state, I was caught with the humans, where do I say?