User blog:Hunted0retnuh/Fear Anonymous

The man in the gray suit walks through the people scattering through the rubble, but not to get away from the destruction. No, he has a meeting to get to, and it's due any minute. He walks into and oddly familliar coffeshop, and the barista behind the counter points a red-gloved right hand to the back room. The man in gray turns the handle, which feels ice cold, opens the door with a creek, and finds almost everyone assembled around a large table that looked as if it was composed of a combination of metal, plastic, and a variety of bloodless, well-preserved flesh. Just as he walks in, the path of black leaves opens up with a strange whoosh like a bottle being opened, and a tall, thin figure glides into the room, and takes his place at the end of the table. Though he has no mouth, all the others can hear his words. Not quite words, really, but a distinct idea. "The humans have gone without opposition for far too long. they are weak, we are strong. It's time to take this world." He shakily gestured to the door. The others knew what that meant, and each used their respective ways of movement to leave the slightly crowded room. All except for one. A lone Fear stood still, gazing down at the ground, And he remembered. Yes, he, he's not your typical fear, as you will see.