<strong>Alfred "Al" Birche</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: School Hallway<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: The Mysterious Woman<br/><hr/>Staring into her eyes was both horrifying and fascinating in its own way; and that initial feeling of fear was smoothed over by the strange sensation he felt. It kind of reminded him of that time he had a 'dead eye'--coffee with three shots of espresso--on an empty stomach.  This felt like an even bigger rush then that, and it made him want to linger around her for a lot longer, even if she wasn't answering his question.<br/><br/>Then, something went wrong. Something was<em>harshing his mellow</em>, as the stoners would say.  "Eh?" He stares downward, mind a bit groggy from the rush. However, it was exactly because of the lingering rush that he chooses to respond the way he does to the fact that there was currently some otherwordly monstrosity trying to eat him.<strong>"PANIC!"</strong><em>It's time to panic!</em>He thought as he moved away from the woman, and slammed himself right into a row of lockers.<br/><br/>Now, why would he do that? Because the way he's slamming himself, he's<strong>attempting</strong>to squash the creepy crawly, and end its existence<del>between</del>.<em>Assuming</em>he managed to solve that most immediate of threats, he would take the time to reassess the situation.<br/><br/>His expression was an odd mixture of frown and grin; it kind of resembled the rictus of a corpse. Because hey, he's high as a kite, and panicked, and shit, shit, shit, monsters and mist everywhere. However, something clicks in his head. He can feel something lingering inside himself. He would<strong>attempt</strong>to draw out that Goblin-esque murderer from within himself,  and send it off into the fray, to butcher and slaughter the creepy-crawlies.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Al himself would be moving towards the gashes, and<strong>attempt</strong>to metaphorically 'stitch' them closed.<br/><br/>(Edit: Striked out a word that shouldn't have been there.)