Insanity Is Too Mild Of A Word

Regis Raingarden wasn't just a man, he was a storm walking on two legs. Six‑foot‑four, built like a legend, with a glass eye that caught the dusk like a warning. He arrived in town without a smile, bought the darkest house on a dead end street, and carried a past no one could imagine. One Friday night, the whole bar learned why people whispered his name. Faces changed. Energy shifted. And by the e...