Hehehehehehe Well look what we have here! - He exclaims in a Raspy voice. the churning of gears can be heard as his accordion like metal chest expands and compresses, as small vents shoot steam into the air.
Irun Lung's the name fella, and you just fell into a level of hell that no literature or religious zealot could ever begin to fathom. Its just you and me now, and If I were you, I wouldn't trust me.
Iron Lung Cracks a demonic grin, matched only by the likes of stalin or Mussolini as he takes another long puff from his cigar, causing his iron chest to wheeze and pick up speed momentarily.
You attempt to take a step towards the other direction, but before you can even shift your weight to turn you feel hard cold steel collide with your face. You spin around violently as your body ragdolls, your eyes fixate on Iron Lungs Phelpsian grin, vision blurred by the blood dripping into your eyes. The world quickly fading as you hit the gritty alley pavement.
Sleep 'Tight' hehehehehehe
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Dave Swanson
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