He had been asleep for sometime now and the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off. Lazarus arose from the couch into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. Running a hand through his hair he felt something strange. He pulled the strand of hair in front of his view. It was black. He stared intensely for a few moments, before tucking it beneath the rest of his white hair. It was turning black. He sat with his hand on his knees. This was bad.