In the parlor of the Governor's Mansion on Hope Island, Charles frowned slightly as he gazed at the curled-up old woman before him. Her face, covered in blue tattoos, made her look very eerie, but her actions were even more unsettling than her appearance.
Tuba, with a vacant expression, sat woodenly across from her. A long trail of saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth as he remained unbothered by the long needle she inserted into the crevices of her own fingernails. Putrid, blue smoke billowed from the old woman's mouth and slowly entwined around Tuba. The blood that dripped from Tuba to the ground turned black at a visible rate.
Sitting beside Charles, Bandage leaned in and whispered something. He was wearing his green postman's uniform again, and the bandages had been removed from his face. As he listened to Bandage's whispers, Charles occasionally nodded, his brow furrowed.
Just then, the blue smoke around Tuba swiftly retreated, flowing back into the old woman's mouth.
