Apartment 22. The Huntsman. Seen

A few moments pass of me panting on my hands and knees like a Goddamn dehydrated dog in heat. I can't bring myself to get up off the floor. It's all just getting to be too much, the blackout, the fog. And now? For the first time in a long time, I am physically hurting. I can't help but rub at my skin—ultimately making the pain worst—to try and get whatever is clinging to it off. I know it's there, I can feel the grimy substance, but I can't see it even with my enhanced vision.