And there it was. Whether the slumped shape in the far darkness of the park was -always- there, or just appeared between one heartbeat and the next, is not entirely clear. What does matter is that the form is there now, but not moving. As Crowley wound his way lazily through the park, the shape of the form grew clearer and clearer. It looked distinctly like a body.

Vicki Nelson lay in a crumpled position exactly the way she'd fallen in the abandoned lab at the Life Science's building. Her body was twisted unnaturally in a way no human would ever choose to lay down, legs twisted the opposite way of her shoulders. Her dirty blonde hair spilled all across her face and some blood trickled down through the locks, crusting them to the edge of her forehead and glasses which lay askew upon her cheeks. She looked like a broken, discarded doll, bent so badly she'd been thrown out with the trash.