2″You race down a secluded street late at night reaching down for a lighter to ignite your cigarette. Heavy music is blasting in the car. You finally grab the lighter you feel the impact. Thousand of feathers exolode in front of your hood and you slam the breaks. The car screeches to a halt. you get out to check what it was. The Angel on the ground groans and tries to get up. He draws his sword and points it at you. Spawn of Satan... then his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses
Comments
0No comments yet.