Ice fingers licked the buildings and the harsh exterior melted away with the incorporeal touch. All around the city, the same torment was wrecking the once-old architecture, aging it new, turning sense and time upon their own smart heads.
Nothing could stop the way death took her prey, but her army of whispers shot through the eyeless sky determined. They had borne the name ruin for years before its birth; they had taken from the living centuries before the living had taped up the finish and put it in a casket.
Now they must exact their revenge: to destroy happiness.