12/5000 preview Sugerir un cambio
In the darkest corner of the ranches, born with the treacherous instinct to hide for the assault, voracious winged filaments, the females stalked the man. To the woman and the child. Avid needles of the night, fell on the bodies asleep, Nailed the stiletto stuck and sipped the first ration of blood.
"Dead Houses" -Migo Otero Silva-