Colin had driven deep in the forest. Somehow he felt the notion to be out of sight for awhile. See if this thing would just pass. But what if it didn't? What then? He didn't know what to expect. He'd just have to hold on to his crucifix tighter, he guessed.
What if he ended up just like Jennifer? It pained him to think these things. He wasn't a murderer. He didn't want to eat human flesh. Perhaps he could eat animals instead. It was just flesh, wasn't it?
That gave him a grimace too as he thought he'd wait it out at an old abandoned farm house. As it was though, he could smell it out, the remains of a meth lab. There was still electricity too. He could only hope who ever lived there wouldn't come back. At least there was a little left to make it a home. A mattress on the floor. A coffee pot with a few bits of ground coffee left in the bin. He'd make do. He couldn't possibly think of it as home. As it was, he wanted this ache to go away. He so wanted to be normal again. But could he?
He wrestled up some coffee. Perhaps it would help this slight ache behind his temples. He hoped. God, really he felt so alone now. He didn't want to be so alone. But he'd have to hide here and figure this out and hope he wouldn't bring harm to anyone.
Of course, he couldn't get the nasty image of Jennifer out of his head. How she'd came down on Patrick and lusted such carnage. It was so terrifying. It made him shake as he watched the coffee flow through the coffee maker. How did that happen? How could it be? What sort of beast was she?
He sensed something was watching him. Oh, God, he hoped it wasn't Jennifer. His breath tightened. He looked out the corner of his eye. It was a raccoon watching him. Waiting for him to do something.
"Ah!" He yelled so hostile. He meant it. Goddamnit! It whimpered a way. Colin found an almost clean coffee cup and poured him some. He'd have to take it black. Wasn't that the way he liked it? He couldn't remember, exactly.