Standing atop the mountain ridge, looking down into the valley that holds a city. A city of neon angels and garbage. We stare listlessly at the filth below… the perversion, the sickness, the death, the chaos. Safe from this, we hold on to the thoughts of our past. Family. Home. Love. All that’s left lies in the pit at our feet, left to rot for eternity. An artificial hell destined to breed nothing more than dregs, and nothing less than pure evil. This is war. Our war. We are the bastards of this war… riding the line between mere existence, and the end of the world.
More things that I’ve written to come.
Banana Bonanza 