Bodies bleed pink on the doomed, dark streets of Brick Lane, London. These cold cruel executions claimed by ___ . Only insiders are said to be safe from persecution. ‘Join up or die’ should serve as their slogan.
They’ve become the Big Brother of the streets of Brick Lane. They are omniscient, omnipresent. They have the ‘authorities’ in the palm of their hands. They are the authority now. Many of the men with badges are members in disguise. No one has dared challenge the rule they have over the city; or at least none who have ever tried to do so have survived to tell the tale. The true numbers of this gang are unknown. Hundreds maybe more. They are everywhere among us, hidden in plain sight. They are hungry for blood; instilling fear in the minds of those around them. Even some of those among them harbour bottled-up fear. The gang’s base is in the heart of the city – in an underground club. it’s location is said to be marked by a single neon pink sign. The name beams out through blinding strobes – SEROTONIN. Serotonin is the name they bare. Pink is the colour they wear when they are out in the open. And in the dead of night, the gang’s identity is the dominating light source in the entire street. They own the street. They are the street. Brick Lane finds itself haunted. Empty. Citizens hide behind boarded and blacked out windows. They pray for safety. They pray they are not Serotonin’s next victim.