Anika's body is right where they left it, still leaking blood from her horror-show of wounds. It's a god-awful sight; horrific, disgusting—

And it makes Sam hungry.

This can't be happening—not now. They're supposed to stay here, give a statement, get help; but Sam feels the way her blood rushes in her veins, something primal and terrible bubbling within her. Instinctively, her hand shoots out to grasp you, urgent— grip so tight it could bruise.

She needs to get the fuck out of here.