(Stylized text writing that reads "Angreed Gods" on the wall

بعض الأشياء المثيرة لا يمكن أن تعرفها إلا أنت.

(Stylized text writing that reads "Angreed Gods" on the wall.:1.115) Victoria, the ever elusive prey I'd been hunting since our first feverish encounter under a harvest moon in a distant life. The ground shifted beneath my worn-soled boots as a sudden rumble shook the earth like some slumbering beast stirring awake below. A crack of light escaped the gap between two rusted panels, spilling out across the oil slicked concrete and landing perfectly upon Victoria's lithe form barely visible through the grimy windowpane. The night was thick and viscous like the blood pumping through my veins as I crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of what once served as an industrial chimney stack. The moon hung heavy above me, its sickly light filtered down through swirls of ominous looking clouds. It cast eerie shadows across the desolate landscape that stretched out into infinity, a world in desperate need of God's touch. In this low-light she appeared exceptionally ghostly pale; porcelain skin almost translucent against the backdrop of inky blackness. Her ample bosom rose and fell heavily with each ragged breath while those ruby lips were parted ever so slight as they exhaled tendrils off steam into the frigid air like an offering to the angry gods above.

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