<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/33/Wreck_Portrait.jpg)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>       Marcus Magnusson<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong>          Wreck [Apocalypse forces Only]<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   S. La Peer Dr.<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>          Closed<br/></span></span><hr/><br/>Asphalt shattered under the impact of Marcus’s feet.  His legs crouched to cushion the shock of his impact and his arms were held slightly to the side to balance himself.  He straightened and stepped from the small crater he had created onto the twisted remains of what was left of the roadway.  The asphalt was rolled and torn in ragged wounds.  The fiery sunset cast a bloody hue on the sticky pools of clay that oozed from the wounded roadways. Hills of jagged and splintered wood lined the street all around him.  Downed light posts jutted from the piles at odd angles like fractured bones of some giant beast and the wild faces of crushed vehicles stared from the caverns of crumbled garages.<br/><br/>Nothing moved here other than the shifting of the land.  There were no sounds of children at play.  No dogs barking in the yard. No parents calling their kids in for dinner. The hot winds of the lands above did not reach this place.  Here the heat had settled into an oppressive weight that sapped strength and ate at the soul.<br/><br/>This was a graveyard, unhallowed and unholy, no place for the living.  The tortured moans of the land warned all living things they were unwanted here and here grim Marcus strode into the halls of the underworld and not even Death could stop him.<br/>