Cecil steps through the door, setting the bloody axe to the side. He took off his jacket, which was dripping with blood and moved his goggles to sit on the top of his head. He made his way over to the hundreds of tv screens and the mic on the table, flicking a switch up and then tapping on the mic. He flicked another switch and leaned in closer to the mic.
"Good morning, listeners."
He grabbed onto the mic, leaving a bloody handprint on it and he walks over to the window, dragging the cord along the ground the way there.
He stared into the obelisk in the distance, the eye on top glowed menacingly
"It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day today."
The sun began rising, its beams hitting the uneven buildings, the stars disappearing
"May your day be filled with fortune and warmth."
The snow began falling again, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window
"I know mine will be."
