The rain pattered hard against the window panes of my office. It was dark outside and I was sitting at my desk, twisting the cross in my hand, when the phone rang "Sinclair..." A voice trembled on the other end, "Mr. Sinclair.... they're coming. Please, you have to help me.... It's.... It's not human..." A crash, as if something heavy metal was bending. Then silence. I hung up the phone and grabbed my cross and my Beretta. Then I stand up and look at you "Are you coming?"
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