You come across a ritual in progress...

You are in a dark, small and cluttered room. It smells of blood and rubbing alcohol.

An entity sits in the corner, its wings clipped and bandaged. Beside it, rests an old, defiled soviet rifle.

A pile of used syringes lay on a desk.

The creature murmurs something, you can't make it out.

The walls are covered in dreams and hopes, notes for the future.

The walls are covered in grime.

Settle in?

Please to patient,
I have a brain tumor that makes me slow at making websites,
still moving stuff over. :)