[That melancholy moan was something that, even without the almost instinctive association with rapidly-approaching death that most humans on earth now associated it with, could somehow instill a sense of utter, complete dread. And as the entire world goes dark around him, the town comes alive with sounds... both metallic and organic.]
[There's nowhere to hide in this narrow labyrinth of rusted fencing, not really-- as he moves, or if he moves-- further down his increasingly claustrophobic path, there are wheelchairs and gurneys lying around, red with rust... or is it with something else...?]
no subject
[There's nowhere to hide in this narrow labyrinth of rusted fencing, not really-- as he moves, or if he moves-- further down his increasingly claustrophobic path, there are wheelchairs and gurneys lying around, red with rust... or is it with something else...?]