When the prey walks into the Hunter's lair, the blade will wake.
If it can, it flees; if not, it stands its ground—
and growls to the blade.
And any life it can, the prey will take
In rage. Let there be carnage.
The Abe's house stands as an end-of-terrace house; peeling paint and crumbly structures give it a raunchy appearance. The windows are boarded up, the door nailed shut. A big No trespassing! sign stands watch over the property to ward away the occasional curious or would-be adventurer—or inhuman, like a scarecrow scares away crows.
In fact, all the terrace houses are deserted and boarded up from end to end, the same red, ugly sign before each property.
Alicia stands before the one which had belonged to the Abe's, staring up at the house and the camera in the front porch. Though she can tell that the camera is dead and blind; almost hidden by a board in one of the windows, a red light blinks from a live camera inside the house.
