As Kirk opened the door, he felt a chill. Should he really be doing this? This was a stranger's home, after all. The feeling quickly left him. He needed the gas, and besides, he wasn't hurting anyone.

"Hello!", he called out. There was no response. He called again. This time, he heard a snorting noise from the room he saw in the back. He called a third time, but again, the only responses he got were the grunts. It sounded a bit like a pig.

Kirk sighed. The day had been weird enough already, and now this? He had enough. Heading back would hurt no one, and maybe he could get to the bottom of things. He headed towards the door in the back.

Without warning, a huge, bulking figure burst into the doorway, making one more grunt. He wore a blood-soaked apron, and a mask that appeared to be made out of human skin. In his hand was a sledgehammer.

Before Kirk could react with anything more than a quick gasp, the sledge was already up, falling, caving his skull in. Kirk fell, twitching. The butcher hit him with the hammer again, ending any twitching along with Kirk's life. He pulled Kirk into the room with him and slammed shut the steel door. There was work to be done.