Cyrom series

The past breathed and preyed upon the dying. The faces of bygone, war stained and splattered long before such blood had even been shed. They were there; I could see them. I could hear them. Unholy eyes of the living dead bored alongside me on either side. On every side, every which way I turned, there they were with their silent screams of charge. And I ran, head long into the thick of that which would change my appearance to reflect that which was...