[center][h2][color=f26522][b]5 Days Later...[/b][/color][/h2][/center]

Norman lay in a hospital bed, both sad, scared and angry. It's been five days since those Evo hunters tried to kill him. He was scared that they'd come and kill him while he slept, or during some other shit. He was scared that one of the doctors would find out he was an Evo and turn him into a group of Evo hunters. He was scared he'd be fired because he jumped out of a window and hasn't shown up in five days.

So many things to be scared of.

At night he'd create little dust devils by the door out of fear that someone would come in. If they did, he would have just enough time to throw them against the wall and run. But last night he just stopped. In fact, last night he decided he was done. He got out of bed, and walked around the hospital. Then, he just walked out of the hospital. The doctors and nurses tried to get him back to his room, though he just pushed them aside with a dust devil.

He headed back to his apartment, clad in a hospital gown, and found it in a state of disarray: things were scattered all over the floor, his mattress was up against the wall... They even broke his monitor and smashed his computer. And what of Gordon, his beloved dog? They shot it dead. Norman was only sad about that: his only companion was dead, and now people were trying to kill him. At least they didn't take his weed.

With that, Norman grabbed his baggie of weed and got dressed, then grabbed some money he hid in the wall and left the apartment with nothing but his weed, a few hundred bucks, his lighter and the clothes on his back. First he needed to buy a gun. Then he needed to find as many Evos as he could. Then he needed to slaughter any fucking Evo hunters he finds.