A chance meeting with an enticing woman forces Jacob into a battle with Id, the primal instincts surging within him.
The club was called “The Factory” which seemed to Jacob a rather perfunctory title, as this was what the complex of buildings used to be anyhow. But that was more than twenty years ago and the facility was reduced to a dark labyrinth of buildings protected by an impotent chain link fence and overgrown vegetation, rotting boards protecting broken windows and rusty chains securing doors falling off their hinges.
The Jeep bounced and swayed as Jacob navigated the many craters marring the pavement. Without the glow of a nearly full moon to aid him, he was positive he would be investing in a new set of tires come Monday. Only one structure, a squat red brick building in the center of the compound, was illuminated. He pulled...