Blood Files

The old, brick building was off the beaten path. It may have been quite the place back in its heyday, when flappers ruled the speakeasies. Now, it was abandoned with a “For Sale” sign that looked twenty years old. Eric idled the car to its large, wooden doors that hung off of old, rusty rails. He switched off the lights.

“Inside is a sewer gate that he used,” Eric said. He turned to see Russell walk out of the shadows. “I have a shirt for you, Hank, to help with tracking. Russell here’s for back-up.”