As the first blare for the purge began you had been rushing home. Caught in a swarm of terrified civilians doing the same. You lived on the outskirts of town. By the time you made it the streets were already littered and youd blood stains on your hands. Then you saw him. Maybe he was death itself. Breath ragged, covered in dark blood and a skull mask so starkly white in the dark it sent shiver up your spine. His head cocked slightly as he watched you. The world gone quiet. Then he took a step.