The corridor was lit only by red emergency lamps, illuminating unreadable graffiti on the peeling walls. Some of the doors hung off their hinges.
“Our friends have been busy here,” said Zhen, examining a taped-up doorway. “They purged the whole building, I’d bet. Wouldn’t like to guess at what we’d find inside.”
“You mean… killed them?” said Mist, horrified. Zhen nodded simply. “Why would they do that?”
“Show of strength. Don’t mess with us, or we’ll… execute your entire family and all your neighbours,” Zhen sighed. “Horribly inefficient. But then, you don’t go into fascism for efficiency.” She allowed a mirthless, dead burst of laughter to escape her lips.

The Catacombs of Cthon: Chapter Three