The man stands over the hulking, spiny monster – charred black in the sunlight and half buried beneath the fallen side of the building. “Damn fool, Feral” the man states to his companion, a young boy, “looks like whoever he tried to bite last nite bit back with a rocket launcher. 174 more words
Tags » Blood Stains
Blood stains won’t make it matter.
Got good things. Got you.
Hoops by The Rubens