We are your brothers. Your sisters. Your friends. We are the walking death. We will burn your cities to the ground and rebuild them with the bones of your children. We are the rotting flesh of the carcass of civilization, animated by nothing less than HATE.Once we tried to conquer Heaven... but Earth feels so much more like home. Such a nice little mudball of decadence and debauchery, with plenty of shadows to cloak the misdeeds of our favored sons. You've dug yourselves into a swampy grave of iniquity, you've welcomed us into your homes with open arms, and all because we gave you a sip from the cup of pleasure. Now feel the venom coursing through your veins as we become everything you are. You unlocked the door. We're busting it down anyway.How we love to possess and commandeer the flesh of the living... to feel the hedonistic ecstasy of sin at its lowest. But this is a war. And in a war, you need obedient troops. The living are fickle; they let us in and then run back into His arms at the first twinge of guilt. The dead make better soldiers.We're building an Army. Consider this your draft notice.
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