It’s a lazy mid-August Sunday afternoon. The “Nameless Detective” and his old friend Lieutenant Eberhardt are relaxing on the patio, drinking beer and shooting the breeze, when the doorbell rings. As Eberhardt answers the door, Nameless hears...
WHO KNOWS WHAT EVIL LURKS IN THE HEARTS OF MEN?
The marks of death were upon them. A mysterious round burn no bigger than a dime scarred each forehead; upon each throat was a thin, almost invisible white line. The police were baffled, but each...