It was a dark and stormy night, like curdled chocolate milk, set out to boil the day away. Overhead, the crows picked their spots in the sky. Running from one shadow to another my target tried to evade the inevitable. Death would take It's soul.
It was a dark and stormy night, like curdled chocolate milk, set out to boil the day away. Overhead, the crows picked their spots in the sky. Running from one shadow to another my target tried to evade the inevitable. Death would take It's soul.
