It was dark. Cold. Moist. Strey waded in the waters fuming. The options she had to release the soul's grip on the body was endless. She spared no efforts in choosing her prey. Shooting? Bombing? Drown...

Strey sits atop the pier focused on the target at hand, wondering what will be enough? Will her plans and years of self training weather the storm? Will all the bodies she's discarded and used as a st...