Antiheroes: Treaties of a Lost Soul

We hurriedly walk across an empty, weed-filled lot to approach the house from the back. There's very little light. Most street lights don't work here. It's perfect. I can only imagine how we would look to an incidental observer tonight, this gang of painted up, crazy looking freaks, and we are truly all of that. The living dead have come to call. White painted faces like death masks, all dressed in black as we stride across the overgrown lot in a neighborhood of abandoned and boarded-up ram...