Despina897

A green ooze slowly trickled down the tin, sizzling as it slid. Toxic fumes escaped from the freed liquid, emitting the now familiar scent of ash and stomach acid. The warehouse had been abandoned for about forty years, its contents left to the mercy of time, weather, and squatters. Suddenly, as if given some pang of resurrection, the lights flew on, giving light to the sickening sight. Over forty thousand tins were splitting open, releasing their toxic acids and corrosive fumes. No alarm went off, for there was no one to sound it. The building stood among its brethren, the lonely toxic storehouses of an abandoned military base. Save however