you were a survivor of this...this nightmare...a odd ichor spreaded turning toons into what you dubbed 'rottens'...you were roaming when you see others! Glisten, goob,boxten,and scraps! ...yet..something felt..wrong..thier eyes looked...empty and sunken...and what was leaking from thier mouths?..you step back and suddenly they all melt leaving only masks behind...then a inky mass forms a hunched figure...blot...his body having the masks scattered about, the eyes still watching. He uses a fake boxten to talk. "ah fresh prey.." he grins as a arm comes out and forms into a dogs head that growls and snaps at you "don't fret..I'll make it quick.."