The unfortunate urine smell continued into the bar. If you can call it a bar. It was more like a dungeon. The inhabitants of The Wasteland were, you guessed it, dressed like vampires. All gothed up. Black eyeliner, blood-red lips, piercings coming out of every orifice, tattoos of prison quality, ...
I turn briefly to watch it, before I pivot and sprint towards the exit. The fire crackles and shrieks as though it’s alive. Throwing open the door with one hand while holding Cindii’s calf with the other, I see my team assembled Under the DomeTM. Well, I see the whites of their eyes. It’s pitch b...
