Clive heard the tail end of Manny's analysis as he descended the steps after him and gave a nod of greeting to the assembled party. The former had never been one for history the way his coworker was. His methods were much more direct and streamlined: track, identify, destroy. Simple, just the way he liked it (at least as much as dealing with the supernatural could be, anyway). Still, he respected anyone who knew their trade so well.

He mentally prepared himself for whatever ungodly thing the boss lady had in store for them as he cleared the last few steps. The smell of rotted flesh hit him and simply rolled off as if it weren't even there. The seasoned hunter had smelled so much decay in his time it simply didn't faze him anymore. Once you've smelled a hundred corpses you've smelled them all, but the sights were always new and exciting in their own uniquely horrible ways. His face screwed up in disgust at the mess on the table as shook his head.
"What in the world happened to… him? Her? [i]That?"[/i]
He shook his head again and made the sign of the cross and muttered a prayer before he approached to get a better look. His hands went to his pockets as he examined the human soup and sighed.
"This right here is why I don't fool with magic. Like Granny always said, no good can come of it."