I grabbed the knife on my belt and delivered a hard overhead stab with a reverse grip at the opener. He staggered, and I thought that wasn't enough and stabbed him with my knee. The victim fell to the bare concrete with a fountain of his own blood.

Behind him, a whole torture room opened up.....

The empty "Shed" resembled Jack the Ripper's apartment, more blood on the many chained bodies on the tables than on the keeper I'd just slaughtered, but this is the terminus station, so it's best to head back.

I returned to the place where the group had split up and walked toward Polazzi. His path was much nicer than mine: three creatures could fit through the opening. But he had more work to do, with bodies lying here and there, and, uh, wait a minute, that's him.

HE – Marlboro, not sure what he was doing on the carpet. No, I get it– lying there with two holes in his torso.

I leaned over, took my pulse, and whispered: "Buddy, are you okay?" Even though his pulse was ticking, my friend was silent: he probably didn't have long to live.

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