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The Hero stood right in front of the Writer. The streets of Noir York felt pleasing for once. Drafts upon Drafts. Endless words rewritten, rewritten and forgotten.
After years of toil, had he finally found a way to escape the clutches of Darkness?
This was the Dark Place. Things weren't as plain as they seemed.
At that moment, the lights started blinking. The calmness which was adrift had been disturbed. Then everything was the suddenly silent.
It stopped raining.
The silence would end in a disturbing manner.
A killer gust of wind blew through them, a huge shadowy mister accompanied it in a roaring fashion.
A familiar face formed in the black mist.
SCRATCH!
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The writer's eyes winded. All the bulbs on the streets of Noir York bursted in a sequential fashion.
"F-CK! THE DARK PRESENCE!"
Alas it was too late, the swirling monstrosity consumed the pair.
The Writer was pushed back, confined once again to the Writer's room.
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