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The glow of your flashlight cuts through the darkness of the stairwell. Trash is everywhere: clumps of newspaper, broken appliances and furniture, and other debris lie strewn about. You maneuver down, staying close to the cement wall. You step over large piles and use the light to guide your way.

Near the fourth floor stairwell exit, a man sits on the ground with his back to you. Possibly six feet tall, his limbs bend at strange angles, and his skin has a yellowish tinge like jaundice. He twitches as you approach, and you reflexively cover your nose with your hand as he reeks of a spoiled milk odor.