Dr. NoSleep (host)

I shot him in the throat.

He still managed to climb on top of me, the wound in his neck pissing blood as he tried to strangle me.

I shot him twice more in the chest before he finally died.

I only found out later that Valverde had been killed while trying to escape the sight.

In my panic, with Marler's blood soaking into my uniform and the stench of Giddens' evacuated bowels stinging my nostrils, I doctored the scene.

I put Gidden's gun in Marler's limp hand and pulled the trigger with his finger, firing into a wall.

When I was asked what happened later, I told the story as if Gidden had been the one whose weapon had been taken.

I said he'd been shot with his own gun before I could get a bead on Marler.

Valverde had run away in the process.

And that's the story I tell Sipes as we ride toward the blood district.

As soon as I finish, Sipes studies me, frank disbelief on his face.

I'm sure he's about to call bullshit when the train car comes to a smooth stop.

He stands swiftly.

I drag my gaze from the scene I've been staring at for I don't know how long.

Sipes stands 10 yards ahead on the strangely spongy sidewalk, jaw set, eyes hard, waiting for me.

Forcing myself to take a step forward, I can't help but look back at the wall of the tumbledown row house.

A creature that looks like a character from the Mos Eisley Cantina lies slumped against the wall, green-gray skin shimmering with moisture.

Every so often, the creature opens its vertical mouth and makes a heinous retching sound.

Half a dozen critters scurry from the mouth, each one looking like some cross between a lizard, a spider, and a moth.

The wall next to the creature's head morphs in a blink, changing from crumbling brick to pink flesh.