Autumn shined orange in the sunlight dancing on the turning leaves dappling the cabin. My boots crunched those jewels as I approached with my arm up to protect my nose. I breathed through the cotton of my sleeve. But the stench of purification reached into my belly and yanked my stomach up to my throat. I swallowed, trying to stem the digestive uprising.
Circling the cabin, I found a punched out window and glanced in. On the floor lay something no human being had birth. It was a collection of bark and sinew vomited up by a science experiment gone wrong. It turned its head. Beady eyes fastened on me. Orange lips moaned. I heard the warning too late. The back of my head caved in with pain. The autumnal splendor blurred as I dropped onto a carpet of leaves. I blinked at a pair of shiny loafers as my world faded to black.