Chicago, October 4th 1941
He wasn't even really sure why he was here, standing in the cold, hard rain in a dark alleyway that smelt of rotting refuse and desperation. His coat, pulled as tight to his skin as he could get it, was drenched. His hat pulled so low that the shadow from it darkened his whole face. Shivering, his lips turned slightly blue from the cold. His right hand jammed into his pocket as he waited. He had a pistol there, even though he wasn't really sure that it'd make any difference.
You couldn't kill these things with bullets, not like normal people. The profesor had been right all along, too bad he was deadnow. They were all dead now....
[IC]Rock Island 1941
- Serious Paul
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