The dead don't stay buried; they get hunted.

clips featuring Nova and Shade from Blacktop and Bone

Prologue to Blacktop & Bone

As the wind shifted, the scent became apparent to her. It preceded any visual cue of Death. This wasn't the smell of blood or decaying flesh, but rather the aroma of newly disturbed soil. Like a grave that'd been dug but then opened up to rainfall. A cloying sweetness followed, thick and heavy like spoiled things left to rot undisturbed. Then came the foul smell of flesh, unceasingly roasting under the sun. It left a metallic, nauseating taste clinging inside her mouth. It wa

On a dark highway, the dead watch her hunt what feeds on souls. by K.K. Schmidt The rain tasted like rust and gasoline, drumming against Nova's leather jacket in a rhythm she had long since stopped counting. She sat on the cracked concrete lip of the abandoned station at Mile Marker 17, her motorcycle parked in the shadow of the collapsed awning. The station squatted at the edge of the empty highway like something that had given up mid-sentence. Above her, a broken sign read