You can hear them moving up fast; faster than your meat legs can carry you. There's a snick as they pop the rippers and move in for the kill; you flatten against the alley wall, and brace your Minami against the slick, slimy stone. It's now or never, you think, slamming back the bolt and offering up a prayer to whatever dark and nameless gods might be listening.
Maybe if you'd known this was Blood... [click here for more]
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