When lonliness finally overtakes the cautious bounds of paranoia, you silence away a creeping tsunami of fear with action, shuffling taloned, bestial legs into action, and clicking them along the hardwood floor.

There were still signs of struggle and descructive force scattered about, ink mixing into blood, tainting your walls colors of a wine crimson sea.

Every step you take is one closer to the barrel of a loaded gun, and you press on despite your worry almost physically restraining the monsterous limbs that drag you, descending, down the steps towards the transportalizer.

Dave’s house was empty, you knew for a fact. A gnarled, ink coated hand reaches to punch out memorized coordinates, and consciously you are deconstructed and replaced within the unsightly clutter of the apartment you more recently called home. 

Lights stream in from various sources, burning and aching, awakening a resounding screech of shock that shatters the bulbs and plunges the living room into shielded darkness. 

Several points along your arms and winged back sizzle and fester with ports of hissing static, only to be consumed by a layer of black once more. 

A cautious outstretching of your wings casts a dark and ominous shadow against the wall containing the door to the outside. You remorsefully curl them about your body, and wait for someone to enter.