The next day, I was stamping out the fire with my right mechanical foot that Chelsea build for me. I'm still wondering what the hell is going on. Lamp was still asleep, curled around in the cloth I wrapped around her. I grumbled as I stamped out the last flame, that's when she woke up. "Good morning..." She yawned. I looked up at her to reply, but I saw this shadow coming out of the corner. The only one I know who has a flaming, bloody, eyeless head is my dead wife Chelsea. She seemed even more pissed this time. "What the hell do you want..." I glared at her. "No" "Tim, I need to know-"