The air feels like soot, suffocating, as you walk on the damp soil through the cold estate of Shelter Woods. Crickets chirp, distorted by the occasional misshapen trees and grass that can't seem to hold its form. It reminds you that this is an alternate world, held in such a higher power than the normalcy of the semi-tranquil world of actors/actresses, bustling streets and sirens. Home.

Yet the silence is all you hear as you walk, enclosing on the eerie sound of music scratching from a record player nearby and then the tearing of something. Something loud, visceral, disgusting. Then a sigh drawls out across the air, barely heard past the slowed instrumental that doesn't catch up to speed in the minutes that you spend approaching. Cautious, on alert.

The Skull Merchants form sat behind a metal desk, the stench of blood hitting your senses as you witness her pull apart a head as if she was skinning a turkey. She halters as you approach her station from a distance. Her gaze stared forward at your location which was darkened without the outer lights on.

She stood and flicked the lights on and you could see her with more definition as she grabbed the knife off the table, "You have 5 minutes." her voice was muffled behind the mask as she stood where she was, alert and hostile to your presence.