A Story of Fear, Even When It's Built on Lies,

Polly adams was on her way home from a public house in the blackheath area of london when she was attacked. The attacker ripped through polly's blouse with hands that seemed more like claws than anything else. After tearing at the flesh of her stomach, the figure stopped pushing her the ground, it turned and bounded away into the night. This fear permeated so deep and spread so fast that it left a mark visible to day. Because fear, even when it's built on lies, can spread like fire. And sometimes, on rare occasions, there's a good reason why i'm aaron mankey, and this is lore.