Another sterile, white room, another pile of bodies. The occupant of this room is tall, female, and even further from normal than the green-skinned gentleman. Her skin is a deep, blood-red, marred by ugly, puckered scars on her forehead, chest and spine. Large horns curve gracefully backwards from her forehead towards the centre of her head. She surveys the room carefully with narrowed, golden cat-eyes, taking in the sight of the bodies thoughtfully. She cocks her head and sniffs the air. Definitely dead, she muses. Guess they won’t be needing those clothes.

She works quickly, stripping bodies and holding clothes up against her body to check for sizes, and in short order is fully dressed in cargo pants and a plain, black tank top. Good enough. Now what? She glares around at the room. Containing the bodies,the gurney, a single, empty syringe, and herself, the room holds no answers, only questions. There is a door however and since this room is no longer useful to her she makes the decision to go exploring. She pauses at the door and looks back at the bodies, belatedly wondering if she should do something about them. A loud, rumbling noise shatters the silence; the woman glances at her stomach, surprised by the loud reminder that she is hungry, then at the bodies. Wickedly sharp teeth are revealed as she begins to smile.

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