* it's almost as dark as the hallway in here, with the blinds drawn down the windows. But you can make out the books and papers and diagrams strewn on the floor, some ripped to shreds, spare parts and components and a half-completed contraption swept entirely off his worktable to one side. The sheets have been roughly pulled off the bunk bed. The air smells of old sweat, like it hasn't been aired for a while. *

* his figure is crouched with back to the wall opposite, knees drawn up almost to his chin, clad only in a pair of loose slacks. The gun he's holding out in his trembling hands is pointed right at your face as he stares wide-eyed at you through the dark. *