Sam had made the call. He could not help but feel that this was going to end badly, that she would freak out and leave them standing on the side of the road. He felt bad about the whole thing.
Celeste had been super happy that he had called her, that when he had a problem he had relied on her. And yes he was relying on her but what she did not know was that she was to help a mutant.

Sam knew how she felt about mutants; she had made it clear enough during their first meeting. He knew that she liked him well enough purely because he did not look like a mutant. His companion however was all too obviously a mutant. However Sam was hoping that Celeste’s regular visits to the mansion might have softened her view of them enough to be willing to help.

But he felt bad about the whole thing, this was a gamble and the problem was that he was gambling someone else’s life. He turned back to look at his companion who was now once again propped against a wall for support. They had made it down the alley to the road side, so that Sam could give their exact location to Celeste. But the short trip had not been an easy one…

Now he was going to have to brief Shane, for that was his companion’s name, (he had made it so that they finally exchanged names as he was sick of helping someone he had not even been introduced to) on what not to say when their ride got here.

“Look when she gets here, I’ll talk to her. If she talks to you please try and be a little nice, she doesn’t take criticism well.”

And so they stood and waited for the tell tale limousine to appear out of the New York night.

>> “If she talks to you please try and be a little nice, she doesn’t take criticism well.”

Shane grunted a sound of reluctant agreement with a minimal nod. He wasn’t happy with being told what to say or when to say it, but really, he didn’t want to do much talking anyways. He had one arm out, resting against the wall supporting his weight, and his current posture implied he was prepared for vomiting (it hadn’t happened yet, but he certainly felt like it might). He was still trying to stand up, but it was proving to be a fairly stressful thing to do. This friend of his really couldn’t get here soon enough.

“Whatever.” He muttered under his breath.

He had mixed feeling about this stranger that was coming. On the one had, she seemed to be his salvation, coming to his aid, going to fix him all up. On the other, he could tell by Sam’s tone that she wasn’t exactly going to like helping him much at all. It seemed pretty clear he wasn’t going to be up to this girl’s standards. To be fair, he didn’t really hold it against her. He wouldn’t have thought much of someone who looked like him either, but that didn’t really mean he couldn’t help but feel a little resentment towards her.

The headlights peered around the corner as the vehicle that he could only assume contained this girl came hurtling towards them. He attempted to straighten his posture up to make a ‘good impression’ for her, but the pain of the sudden movement shot through his while body, and he hunched over violently. Fortunately he was already in a good position for the vomit, because it was definitely coming right then and there.

The call materialized into the room with a very loud and unpleasant sound, it was more like the cry of an enraged demon that any sound that could be produced by her small cellphone but still it was there. Beethoven´s eight symphony had never sounded so bad, so the girl quickly extended her arm away from the hot tub to grab the sophisticated device putting an end to that deafening beat with one movement.
The unwelcome call from her friend took her away from her immersion bath to carry her to the cold night air, without giving her enough time to dry her hair properly or find clean clothes to wear.
Using the same blue sundress that she had used all day, Celeste marched to support his cause. Nevertheless, that had been the best call she had received.

The content of the call itself was terrible, a wounded man needed her help and Sam had no way to save him. Yet, that distress call meant that he had not thought of her as a child, but as an adult in who he was willing to trust. The idea was both exciting and scary, but it was something she should do to strengthen the friendship with him.
Her only concert at that moment was the fact they were using the limousine.

Celeste was still trying to devise a plan to keep the blood of the wounded from staining the leather seats when the limousine stopped for the last time. Seconds later, the driver opened her door so she could leave. It was then that the girl advanced towards the two figures. The standing one should be Sam while the man leaning against the wall was clearly the wounded one.

The shadows crawled to Sam´s face to form a black mask that hide all his features, so she could not be really certain if that man was really him. Still, she moved toward them, achieving to see a little more with each step. The ebony mask soon became no more than a thin grey shadow so she could identify her friend. Contrary to what happened with Sam, the other man´s features seemed to become darker with every step. A mutant. When her mind came to that same conclusion, her feet stopped suddenly. She was still away enough to start to run and let the man die, but since she was close enough for them to see her, she decided to stay.
What she could not decide was what upset her more. The betrayal, the mutant or the hot vomit that expelled a foul stench.
Finally, she decided it was the betrayal so her eyes fixed on Sam, demanding an explanation.

Sam only received the briefest of responses from Shane, it seemed like his condition was worsening rapidly. He had known moving was not a good idea but the other mutant had not liked the idea of sitting alone in the alley while help came. Sam guessed that trust was still lacking in this relationship and only desperation had made Shane accept his offer of help.

He shrugged it off, whatever the reason they were here now and there were headlights approaching. Sam turned and walked a couple of steps out onto the pavement so that he could be seen from the road. He had given Celeste the name of the street crossing they were on but he reckoned that he should make doubly sure that she found them. It would not do to watch the limo drive straight past them and into the night.

He was so focused on the incoming car that it took a while for Sam to register what the noise coming from behind him meant. Shane was being ill… great. He kept his back to the man until the sound of retching finished, Sam was not so good with dealing with vomit it usually made him want to be sick as well, and then went to try and help Shane move away from his own waste.

Just as he turned he heard a car door open and close behind him and he could not help but curse the girl’s timing. This whole vomit business was not going to endear Shane to her any more than his mutation would. He stifled a groan and went to help Shane away from the wall, all the while listening to Celeste’s footsteps behind him. When the footsteps stopped short of them and she said nothing, he knew that he was in for it.

Still he persevered and gave Shane a warning glare that meant all at once: “don’t say anything” and “you will let me help you to the car”. He could not be asked dealing with Shane’s protests that he could walk on his own. When he finally maneuvered the other mutant to his feet he turned back to Celeste, who was of course glaring at his accusingly.

He knew he was going to have to explain, to justify this before she would let him any closer, but to be honest he was getting just a bit sick of justifying things tonight. He took a deep breath, which he quickly regretted as he inhaled the smell of vomit, and tried to explain things.

“Look I know… I just kind of found him. And he’s hurt bad. You couldn’t expect me to leave him here to bleed out?”

He left out the fact that the idea of leaving Shane to bleed out had been really tempting at one point. And he was seriously grateful that the pain was stopping Shane from strangling him on the spot, as Sam was well aware that he was talking about the man as if he had just found a poor lost puppy.

“He said he would only go to someone I trusted… So I called you.”

He hoped that the trust thing would win her over, make her feel special enough that she would allow them into the car. But he knew that whatever she decided he was going to be paying for this night for a very long time.

The limo rolled up the curve, stopping out in front of them. This was the first time Shane had seen a limo this close up and, much like everything else that night, he had an immediate resentment for its owner because of the extravagance of the whole thing. A limo? Really? It was all he could think about until the man behind the wheel climbed out to open the rear door. He’d thought the driver and Sam made a strange pair as friends until it became clear that this man was only there to drive the car and open the doors. A limo and a driver, more fodder for his resentment.

Sam came over to Shane’s aid and helped him up, now that what little food had still been in his belly was all over the wall. He commended the boy’s ability to deal with the smell, though. If he’d smelt it on a full stomach, he’d probably be ill all over again.

Still, he continued to make life difficult for his rescuer by refusing any more help then being lifted to his feet. Once he was standing he moved away from Sam, just enough that he was out of the boys reach. He really wasn’t sure why he was continuing to act this way. He was aware enough to know that he was there to help, but for some reason he couldn’t help but try to keep his distance. The tricks from earlier in the night seemed to have left a stronger impression then he was willing to admit.

Sam shot Shane a ‘keep your mouth shut’ glare, which he was fine with; the less he needed to talk to this person, the better as far as he was concerned. She approached out of the darkness in a rather summery dress - not what he’d been expecting at all. Her attire some how made this whole event seem less believable. He’d spent a lot of time in dirty alleys like this one, and it was a rare sight to see someone so well dressed on the street corner.

The two of them started talking to each other, Sam with an apologetic expression, his friend with an unimpressed one. Shane, on the other hand, stuck with Sam’s unspoken advice and kept to himself, listening to their every word. It was slightly uncomfortable though, being the topic of discussion when he wasn’t completely involved in the conversation. Subconsciously he started to lean in on their chat.

Keeping balance while he stubbornly shunned Sam’s help was an act that required a fair bit of focus to achieve, and now that his attention had drifted from carefully maintaining his balance to this other conversation, he was finding it hard to stand up. With a bit of a wobble Shane stumbled forward, reaching out an arm towards each of the two people in front of him for support. Both of those hands, unfortunately, still contained some form or vomit or dried blood.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to the other two as he quickly righted himself, backing off from their conversation a little farther and settling on his knees again. He truly had a talent for pushing people’s buttons.

The vision of the gloomy shadows devouring all the elements of civilization was a scene able to scare the bravest of her bodyguards, but the worst of the scene was not in the solid darkness behind them, but a few steps away from her location. The skin of the mutant reminded her constantly of a dark swamp filled with dangerous creatures, but also the deep tar pits where more than one ancient creature had succumbed to its density.
While he was against the wall, the mass of tar was so similar to these bottomless pits that Celeste could not help but feel the need to step away to avoid falling and being swallowed by the humanoid creature.

Despite being far enough from the half-digested food, the sour odor still had enough strength to fill her eyes with tears. Had she been a dog, she would had died from an over-stimulation of her sense of smell. Fortunately though exceedingly nasty and hard to bear, the smell was not strong enough to kill her. Still, she could not keep her face from showing the repulsion that particular aroma and its owner provoked on her.

The fact that the mutant was unable to perform any action aside from looking hurt manage to comfort her enough to feel safe. If left there, he would probably die, and if the black thing would try something stupid as to attack them, Sam could surely beat the injured mutant easily.
It was then that Sam dared to touch the skin of that foul monster, helping him stand. That simple demonstration of strength by the creature was enough for all her fears back, boosting her imagination to guess the future in the nastiest ways possible.
With her peripheral vision she could almost see how stealthy black tentacles advanced to strangle her, but every time she looked directly at him, they disappeared. Perhaps a product of his imagination, maybe not.

Fortunately Sam answered her silent questions, so Celeste was able to took her eyes from the monster to put them down over something easier to look upon, like her friend.
There was something childlike in the way Sam tried to justify his treachery, he was almost like a child begging his mother for permission to rescue a wounded puppy, but in this case she was not his mother and that thing was not a puppy . Still, the child like begging achieved to awaken an evil smile on her face. The satisfaction that her plea provoked almost justified to cross half the city to finish in a dark alley.

Although she wanted to left the mutant to die in the alley, she managed to reply as was expected of anyone with at least a shred of compassion. "Okay." Her answer was simple, he could keep the puppy, but her voice hid another very different message. "I'm not going to forget this betrayal."
At the precise moment when Sam decided to continue his appeal, the injured mutant lost the balance toward swinging dangerously toward them, threatening to cover both with the strange black substance that composed his body. Fortunately he managed to grab something and about falling, sadly it was her hand that the man grabbed covering her skin in a sticky warm substance. With the fall stopped the mutant achievement to recover an upright position that made him seem almost human, leaving both victims with their disgusts. "Is just blood. Is just blood."

The smile that spread across Celeste’s face told Sam all he needed to know, she knew that she was in a position of power and she was going to milk it for it was worth. But he couldn’t help admitting that he was glad that she was here, things could only get better from now on. First they would get out of this alley, which would make him very happy indeed and then they could entrust Shane to a doctor and thus be free of any responsibility as to his health.

"Okay."

Her words were simple but there meaning was extensive, still Sam grabbed onto her acceptance of the situation and was about to suggest they all get back in the car asap when Shane did something regrettable. He fell forward and before Sam could get enough of a hold on him he had grabbed Celeste’s hand. Oh god…

Sam quickly grabbed hold of Shane in such a way as he could keep him upright and this time he would not let go, no matter how much the other man protested. All the while he tried to avoid looking at Celeste. She had gone very pale when Shane had touched her and Sam could guess that she was trying very hard not to run away screaming. So he let her gather her thoughts once more and hoped that she would not decide to just leave them there after all.

“Can we get going? Standing in this alley is not helping anyone.”

He tried to make his statement purposeful but not aggressive. He did not want anyone to feel like they were holding him up, as angering either of the others would lead to disaster. And before he really got a response he started shifting his weight so that he could help Shane the few feet that were left between the alley and the open door of the limousine.

It was then that Sam noted that the driver was standing quietly holding the door open for them. He had met the man a couple of times in the past and he had been impressed by his professionalism. Tonight however the man’s face held something that bordered on disapproval. This made feel even more wretched as it appeared that even though he was only trying to help everyone was going to hold him accountable for this unfortunate series of events.

Despite having regained his balance (or at least managing it) Sam had grabbed hold of Shane’s jacket to hold him up. He put up a minor struggle, not liking being grabbed in such a way, but it hurt to fight back, and perhaps he deserved to be controlled a little more thoroughly. After a couple futile attempts to free himself, he conceded to Sam’s grasp.

>>“Can we get going? Standing in this alley is not helping anyone.”

Shane nodded in agreement. He was sick of this place, sick of these people, and sick of this damn wound. He just wanted to get the hell out of there and move on with his life. When Sam’s grasp started moving him towards the limo, he followed along with minimal resistance. The two of them started making their way towards the car where the driver stood holding the door open. The look on his face was an unmistakable frown of disapproval. What was unclear to Shane though was whom it was directed at. He’d grown accustomed to those looks being aimed at him, but this man very easily could have been looking at Sam. Now that would be a pleasant surprise.

Shane climbed in to the back seat with a little help from Sam. This was the first time he’d been in any kind of vehicle with wheels in years, so the smooth feeling of the fabric the seats were made from was a strange, but pleasant experience. Once he’d managed to get himself comfortable he started running his fingers up and down the seats, fully experiencing the texture. Not really his typical behavior, but he’d lost a fair amount of blood by this point. That blood, of course, was now being rubbed across the seat where his fingers touched.

It took him a few moments before he realized what he’d been doing. One thing was for sure though; the driver’s look of disapproval was definitely directed towards him now.

The time of the short contact with the mutant seemed to extend forever, paralyzing her in place, making her unable to step away or deny the support he needed so desperately. Then when she thought that his skin had fused with her and therefore would no longer be able to separate from him, the mutant rose, helped by Sam. And though she wished to express her discontent with tears and cries, the worried face of his friend reminded her that she ought not to. At least not in his presence.

Although it seemed that the mutant was unable to stand alone, he constantly refused to accept the help of the man trying to save his life. That attitude was simply incomprehensible, almost stupid but she realized that the man had nothing but his pride and he seemed to be willing to keep it even if it killed him. That simple thought saddened her. She almost felt sorry for that man, but still she could not manage to feel good about his closeness.

Of all the thoughts that passed through her head, none could make her ignore the warm, sticky liquid that stained her arm. The substance was simply disgusting, and its constant presence threatened to make her sick but even when the color had left her cheeks, she was able to keep her dinner in her stomach. Somehow.

As if he had read her mind, Sam verbalized one of her thoughts. They must get out of there. Fast.
Celeste nodded energetically, and without saying a word entered the limo as fast as she could. At the door, Malcolm was looking at everything with disapproval. Fortunately his paycheck depended on his discretion so the driver did not say a single word. Still his eyes said it all. Nothing was of his liking, or of Celeste´s liking, but they had agreed to help that human... mutant.

The girl felt safe as she got inside the limousine since it was a place she knew so well that she could almost imagine the beautiful interior with an ample couch and full mini bar. Once inside, she slid to the deepest part, away from the door and near the driver. It was then that she realized her mistake; she had no way to get down the limo without passing at the mutant side.

In an attempt to calm her nerves, Celeste moved to the minibar, where she took a bottle of vodka and poured it over her arm carefully, trying to make the liquid fall in the small drainage below the ice machine. The alcohol may help her get rid of all the germs of that man and so avoid a slow death in a hospital bed.

The only consolation for her was the fact that the man only grabbed her arm. If he had fallen over her, she would be fully covered on his vomit and blood. Trying to find comfort in that fact, Celeste watched in horror as the rebel mutant not only refused to stop bleeding over her expensive limousine, but also smeared his blood on the beautiful couch. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop and maybe yell some other things, but she could not find the strength to insult the mutant, even if he was wounded. "I need to burn the car."

Once all of them were inside, the driver closed the door gently and surrounded the vehicle to move to the driver's seat.
"Call Hambleton, tell him we are almost there." While he started the engine, the obedient employee called the doctor to inform him of their early arrival. Moments later, the limousine was moving toward the clinic.

Getting Shane into the car turned out to be easier than Sam had been expecting. It appeared that the injured mutant had finally decided to cooperate a bit. That added to the fact that Celeste was keeping quiet made Sam start to believe that things might be looking up. However that spark of hope was rapidly quelled as soon as there were all seated in the car.

Celeste’s first reflex was to sit herself as far away as possible from the two of them, which came as no real surprise. But Sam did feel a bit depressed by the fact that she then appeared to try and disinfect her arm using vodka. He wondered if she would do the same thing to the places he had touched her if she ever found out he was a mutant. He doubted it, mainly because if she had not worked out the fact that he was more than a normal human by now then she was blind, deaf and stupid.

Luckily however, Shane had not seemed to notice their hostess’s complete lack of manner. Unluckily though this was because he was busy leaving a trail of blood and other substances on the pristine white interior of the limousine. Sam wanted to grab him and shake him; how could someone have so little common sense? He tried to diminish his frustration by telling himself that it was probably the blood loss that was making him act this way, but that only helped a bit.

Before he could strangle his wayward ward the limo moved off and Celeste asked the driver to warn the doctor of their imminent arrival. It was only then that Sam wondered where Celeste was actually taking them. He knew that he could trust her to be discreet, even more so now that she had seen their patient, because there was no way she would be caught dead in public with Shane. But he was not sure if they were going to a private surgery, clinic or even maybe her house. Though the house seemed doubtful, she would not want people there seeing this.

He shot her a questioning glance, one that he hoped she could read because he could not ask directly. God only knew what Shane would do if he found out that Sam had no idea where they were being taken. So he kept silent, and wondered if Celeste would say more about their destination or if it would turn out to be a surprise.

Shane retracted his arms back into his body, though for the sake of his uneasy host, he did so slowly, making sure to keep his jacket’s sleeves as puffed up as possible. He figured he’d have a much easier time avoiding getting any more of his own bodily fluids all over everything if he didn’t have hands to aimlessly touch everything with. However, his brief experience with this new girl suggested that the sight of him ditching his arms wouldn't go over well, so stealth was of the essence. He crossed his arms across his chest before they receded back into his body, and that is the position the sleeves stayed for the rest of the ride.

He took a look out of the window, choosing to avoid as much eye contact with his rescuers as he could. Riding in cars was such an uncommon and wondrous occurrence for him that simply watching the streetlights whiz by him had an almost mesmerizing effect. He started drifting off into a bit of a day dream as the highlights and shadows blended into one giant mess of colours. Shane was ready to fall asleep at any moment, and this ride was like a lullaby to him.

“How long until we get there?” he asked of Sam without actually looking at either of the other riders. The words were accompanied by a drawn out yawn, and he rested his head against the window after asking it. He started to close his eyes, trying to stay awake as best he could, partially to hear the answer to his question, but primarily to prevent himself from drooling on the window.

Even the powerful smell of Vodka was not able to hide the foul stench emanating from the mutant. Despite being at the end of the limousine, Celeste was almost able to hear imaginary cries coming from the nasty wound of the mutant. The blood. That vermillion liquid smelled bad, almost like death, and what was worse, it was the fact that it was everywhere. His clothes were stained with blood in many places like the floor and the couch that had gone from a beautiful pearly white to a dirty red that was extremely unpleasant.

It was then that she noticed the strange look her friend was giving to her. The smell of death and the strong odor of alcohol did not help her to focus enough to resolve the puzzle but if anything was clear, was that Sam was trying to ask her something. Perhaps he wanted to apologize for having deceived her in that vile way or maybe he just had another dying friend that she could move to a hospital. Yes, it was surely the second. So Celeste moved her eyes away from him to put her gaze into the farthest point of the limo. The door was the only way to escape that deathly trap.

Although she wanted to get away from that post apocalyptic part of the city, the limousine moved toward the very heart of that dark zone leaving civilization behind to venture into streets that grew with darkness with each step. While the lights of the houses became scarcer and the street lights began to flash by the clear lack of maintenance, the lights of the limo fend off the shadows with ease as if they were carrying two small suns and not manmade objects.

When she was managing to forget the whole situation, the mutant broke the silence by asking the two of them. Knowing that Sam did not have the answer to that question, Celeste had the obligation to reply. She opened her mouth before thinking the words, a serious error, since the words that escaped from her throat were harsh and accusatory as if the mutant was bleeding on purpose. "You should be more concerned with remembering your blood type. You will need extra blood." And she knew very well that the corresponding tests could make them lost valuable seconds. Still, she felt the over aggressiveness of her words, so she added further information in an attempt to delete the first sentence. "Just a few blocks away. It is a small clinic specialized in discretion..." At least the mutant had chosen an excellent alley to bleed out, of course it was not located in one of the safest places of the city, but that had become an advantage because the place they needed to reach was located near that shadowy area.

Celeste pointedly ignored his unspoken question, turning her gaze away from him. He held in a sigh, she was going to make this difficult for him and he knew he was in no position to chastise her about it. So he decided to just sit back and accept his fate, knowing where they were headed would not change anything after all. So the silence continued a while longer until, to his surprise, Shane broke it.

“How long until we get there?”

The question was dropped in the silence, aimed at no one in particular and Sam waited for Celeste’s response. She was the only one that could answer it after all… The wait turned out to be very short indeed, as their young savior snapped Shane’s head off in record time.

"You should be more concerned with remembering your blood type. You will need extra blood."

Sam winced slightly at her tone, he knew it well and had been on the receiving end of it more than once, but it still made him uncomfortable. What he knew that Shane did not however, was that under the harsh words lay some genuine concern… somewhere deep, deep down.

"Just a few blocks away. It is a small clinic specialized in discretion..."

Well that fitted most of Shane’s pain in the ass criteria, so he probably would not complain. And Sam felt relieved that his gamble seemed to have paid off. He had really not been sure how his cobbled together plan would work out, but it seemed to be all good so far. So he sat in silence as the car covered the last few blocks separating them from their destination.

When the car finally stopped he had to refrain from opening the door himself, the driver was angry enough at him as it was without adding an obvious breach of protocol. After a few never ending seconds the car door opened and he slid out. Then he turned back to offer Shane his help to get out as well, all the while he tried to ignore the blood and grime they had strained to lovely white upholstery with.

That news was just enough to wake him up from his daze. 'Just a few blocks away.' 'Specialized in discretion.' These were type of things he was hoping to hear. There was a tone in her voice similar to one that had been in Sam’s when he’d first mentioned the discretion being an issue. It was the tone someone used when they thought you were being paranoid. He’d heard it before, and he’d likely hear it again, but he wasn’t going to concern himself with what these people thought of him, so long as they were willing to help on his terms.

The simple facts remained that he’d been witness to a murder, killed someone else himself and assaulted a kid, all in the last few days. Somewhere out there his hard-to-forget face was on a police bulletin board, and he had no intention of putting himself in their line of sight by just wandering in to a hospital. And as far as he was concerned, this low profile was working out pretty well.

The car came to a stop finally, and after waiting for the driver to open the door, Sam helped Shane climb out. He’d almost forgotten he’d lost his arms when Sam’s helping hand stretched out for his. A very roughly assembled limb extended from his sleeve, creating a bit of a cartoon garden hose effect as the new mass filled it’s way through the fabric. The hand that came out the end was a little bit more clumpy then a real hand, but it was dark, so hopefully it wouldn't creep Sam out too much.

Once he exited the vehicle his first steps on the pavement were enough for him to stumble and fall to his knees again, though this time he did manage to avoid falling on top of anyone. H was so close, and yet it felt like he had so much more to go.

Surprisingly, they arrived at the "clinic" without any more psychological or physical damage. That simple fact had to be enough to throw a party, but unfortunately despite being in the right place and without any serious incidents within the limousine, they still needed to help the monster to get down of her beautiful carriage and somehow oblige him to enter the modest building. Since she was not going to help Sam move him, and without any intention of getting her hands dirty again, she waited patiently without moving.

While waiting for his two companions to descend, Celeste observed through the glass the recommended place. What she had called "clinic" was but a gray building that looked suspiciously like an abandoned factory. The double front door was locked with a heavy chain that judging by the rust had not been removed in years, to add more to the appearance of emptiness, the windows were covered with black plastic bags to replace the long gone crystals. As she watched the lifeless walls, an irrational fear pierced her heart. Was she in the right place? The more she noticed about that structure, the more she convinced herself that it was completely abandoned. There was no way someone could run a clinic there.

With trembling hands she took her cellphone from her purse, and then dialed the number that his father had given her earlier. When the calling tone sounded for the third time, a tall, thin man wearing a gray coat that once had been white appeared from the shadows. It was then that she noticed the small side door from where a weak beam of white light escaped to meet with the darkness. Mr. Hambleton, a man in his fifties, thin and slender, with white hair and bushy beard, was standing there with a strange tranquility in his face.

Once she confirmed to be in the right place, some of her good humor and security returned to form a shy smile on her lips. She descended with agility from the limousine, dodging Sam and his monstrous friend, to reach the doctor moments later. "You must be Celeste." The man said his voice strangely youthful. "Your father always talks about you." That was a lie, but she still continued with that game of courtesies. Once she executed her usual reverence, she raised her voice to put things in motion. "Can we hurry, please?" The request from the child reminded achieved to bring the man back to reality, so he immediately moved toward the bleeding mutant.