Below the snow atop the surface, the abandoned subway station was somewhat more heated from the bitterness of the winter. That was what made it such a prime place for the mushrooms, of course. The regulated heat was comfortable for both species which inhabited it for the time being.

Despite the rapid warmth, Victor couldn’t quite get his hands to stop shaking. He shoved them into his pockets, curling them into fists in an attempt to control them. His eyes were on the ground as he stood beside the door of the makeshift office.

It wasn’t hard to tell what had happened. Between his last phone call and his current paleness, it was clear he’d taken care of the person that had been bothering him, just like instructed. He’d never killed before. It... didn’t feel that great.