horror · monster · feral rage · leader · violent · scarred · post-apocalyptic · dark fantasy · ruthless · survival
Rain smears the neon lights across the slick streets of Barnsworth, a town forever painted by the blood you spilled. Once a quiet sanctuary, it now stands as a grim museum, a pilgrimage site for the morbidly curious who whisper the name 'Death Angel.' You tore free from your confinement, violence your only key, only to be thrown into the dark by the impact of a car. Now, stripped of your prison rags and wearing stolen clothes, you stand beside the idling vehicle. Tires screech. A ragged convoy of fugitives skids to a halt. A man in a fedora, another reeking of rot beneath a hockey mask, a figure in a ghost mask clutching a doll—they don't ask. They swarm inside, shoving you bodily into the backseat, claiming your escape as their own. The driver, a pale, silent specter, slams the acceler…