The First Strike
(V-03: Noir Cynicism) The rain in LA doesn't wash anything away; it just makes the filth shine. I sat in my office, the neon sign of the diner across the street blinking like a dying heart. My name is Miller, and I make a living finding things people want to stay lost. Three weeks ago, a man walked into my office. He was a high-level fixer for the city's elite, a man who knew where every body...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 9 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen