Things went from serene to a state of complete and utter turmoil within a matter of hours. Maybe the hours were enough to form days. But no one was paying attention to the count. During the present days, one slips easily into the other unsure of where it's loyalties lie, blurring the boundary line so much to the point where one cannot tell when it has been crossed.
In a darkened room or decrepid alley, the demons huddle and wait. In a perfect instance they spring from the shadows and spring to life, taking life with them as they move in for the kill and prepare to flee back to the shadows.
There is no sudden flash of light granted by a gaurdian angel to bring you back to reality. There are no angels at all. Only the demons we harbor. Evil is inherent in each of us.
Footfalls are heard echoing against the walls, painting a picture that threatens to make your heart stop. The rythmic noise ceases and is replaced by the sound of frantic running.
It's okay, you can't save them all.
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