“In the midst of the chaos, the shadows themselves seem ravenous - hungering for the explicit taste of blood and forbidden passion. Every corner pulses with the promise of violence, every gasp of darkness charged with the memory of moans and gunfire alike. The night air crackles with anticipation, as though the world itself cannot wait to drink deeply of the c*****e we leave in our wake.”
--
We flee through narrow alleys slick with rainwater that shimmers red under the broken streetlamps. Each step leaves a smeared footprint of soaked leather, as though the ground itself were bleeding. My boots slip through puddles thick with residue from last night’s inferno - ash, oil, and coagulated blood forming a hellish slurry that coats my soles. The moon is a mocking sliver behind rolling storm c
