The dilapidated building had long since been boarded up.  Plywood covered the windows as the door hung crookedly from its hinges.  Cobwebs and debris cluttered the exterior like a haunted house.  A series of clues had led the wanderer Destro_Whelan to this place.  But why?  

Destro_Whelan had trekked from Detroit to Chicago in search of information.  Who were his parents?  Why had he been left all alone to fend for himself in such a cold and cruel world?  He had acquired a tip that he would find answers he sought hidden at the gravesite of a woman named Jen_Mooney.  Destro_Whelan had tried to track down any living relatives of Jen_Mooney that might be able to direct him to where she had been laid to rest, but there were none.  They had all left 'these shores' as they are called, despite the fact that most of the cities didn't have any shores, forever, never to return again.  Yet another dead end in Destro_Whelan's quest for truth.

He approached the abandoned building and saw an old sign on the ground out front underneath the rubble.  He dusted it off and noted that some of the letters were missing.  He read the sign.

TH  R B LS OF TH  SACR D H ART HQ

Someone had stripped the sign of some of it's letters, Destro_Whelan had noticed, most likely salvaged by the new nightclub up the street called EEEEEE.  What was this place?  Did it hold clues as to who his parents were? Maybe the homeless man across the street can shed some light, Destro_Whelan thought to himself.  He walked across the street to ask him.

"Excuse me, sir.  I am looking for clues about who my parents were.  Do you know anything about this old HQ building?"

A grim look spread across the homeless man's face.

"That wasn't no HQ.... it was a tomb."  His words sent a chill up Destro_Whelan's spine.

"What do you mean?" asked Destro_Whelan.

"I mean the place was cursed.  One by one, they all died. Eventually the mobster that ran the place shut it down."

Destro gently clutched the homeless man's shoulders. "What was this mobster's name?  I must speak with them to learn of who my parents were."

"She's dead," the homeless man said.  "Died in the Great Chicago War this past season."

Destro_Whelan had heard about this epic war.  It had been speculated that it had to do with the Chicago mob not pouring enough drinks and selling enough burgers in the city's business district.  Perhaps this new business EEEEEE would fare better, he wondered.

"Well surely there is somebody that I can speak to.  Please, I must know who my parents were, and why they left me all alone to fend for myself in this cold cruel world." Destro_Whelan pleaded.

"I'm sorry, they all died.  No one got out alive."

Destro_Whelan hung his head low.  Maybe he was never to learn of who his parents were or what had become of them.  He thanked the homeless man for his time and handed him a crisp hundred dollar bill before turning away to walk down the dark lonely street, defeated.

"Wait." the homeless man called to him.  Destro_Whelan stopped and turned around.

"Yes?" said Destro_Whelan.

""There was one man......."