Yes. She runs.

I took a step towards her. I must have been too obvious, because she jumped up on her bed to put distance between us.

"Get the FUCK back, freak!"

Ugh. Freak. Such an ugly work, so loaded with hate. I don't think I'm particularly freakish. I'm not the handsomest guy in the world, but I have no major deformities. Well, besides my interactions with the world, I guess.

"Lucy, believe it or not, I'm one of the good guys," I lie. I'd be delusional if I thought that.

"You're crazy! Get out of my house," she shouts. This was getting tedious. I start to walk around the bed, following her. As soon as I get to the edge and reach out to try to grab her, she lunges towards the door and sprints out.

Fuck. I'm too old for this.

I follow her, she bolts down the stairs. Things were moving too quickly right now, and I wasn't sure why. I hadn't slept last night, and she had, sure, but it wasn't just that.

I sniffed the air. The room used to smell like... vanilla, when I came in. It was a strong scent, but it was being replaced by something. Putrid. I could feel my muscles tightening, slowing. I threw myself down the stairs after her, hitting the wall at the bottom, catching myself.

She coughed, but kept running. She didn't notice the man dressed in all white with a shaved head standing in her living room as she ran outside screaming for help.

Nor did she notice the two men dressed the same way standing on her porch until she ran into them, and they dragged her screaming into their van.

Shit. To think that I went into this hoping for an easy job.

The bald man approached me from behind, while I was hacking up a lung. This wasn't Woodward. This was - shit, this gas or whatever it was was clouding my thoughts - the head of their pack. The Gardener, they called him. Fruity group.

"Ben," he said, approaching me. I could barely understand as I collapsed towards the door. "So nice of you to drop in. I'm afraid that we'll have to do this another time, though, I have a schedule to keep. No doubt I'll see you tonight, friend." He steps over my prone frame as he follows his men out to the van.

I breathe heavily, gasping for the clean air outside.

Brimstone gas bomb, I remember now, I hate that shit.