In the darkness of the hallway, Edward's eyes flash a disconcerting gold. The monster has had enough of its conscience's pitiful tug-of-war, and thus has usurped its lesser servant. The monster stamps out all sense and control, replacing the doctor's thoughts with the deranged symphony of Eugene's pulse thrumming in his ears. The lull of it pulls him now forward, and he takes a step toward the cripple, the first step in a chain of motions that may lead to Eugene's death.

He says nothing.