It was like a slap in the face, Samson reeling from the sudden invasion of his mind. Only to actually bend and fall when his face was smacked with a water balloon, splashing across his face and soaking into his shirt. He found himself in the ditch a few seconds later, staring up at the sky and trying to keep his breathing in check.

One had led to anxiety, the other forcing it to become a defensive anger. Dark fantasies filtered through his mind, screaming for blood. For a few seconds, he entertained it, allowing himself to fantasize about running them down, forcing them off the road. Slicing them apart, dragging screaming bodies into the street, displaying them on the asphalt in a bloody circle.

But he stopped those thoughts, staring down the street as he worked to calm his own twitching musculature, pushing it back and out of the shapes it had decided to take to catch them; lither, leaner. It itched and buzzed, but he eventually made his way back onto the road. Let it go. He was used to it.

He stood there now, Samson thinking on what to do. On one hand he had his spot, safe and secure and familiar. On the other hand was this "Brotherhood." He didn't know how he had come across that name, but it felt right for the house he saw. Kinda familiar too. He hummed before he turned, changing his course and heading the opposite direction.

In the way he felt this house.