He has always been one who had little fear. A traumatic childhood hadn't led to this lack of a key emotion, it had exactly the opposite. However, there was always one idea that never failed to strike fear straight into his heart. His palms would become clammy, his mind would spin a thousand times, and a tight knot would block his windpipe, threatening to end his life. Relaxation wouldn't be easy until another person was near him. It was always a little embarrassing to be so afraid of something so idiotic. A powerful shiver tore him from sleep. He looked around the dead room, paranoia starting to scratch his brain. He allowed a deep breath to calm him, if only slightly. Moonlight filtered through the cracked wooden ceiling above him and his gaze fell on a wind-fluttering note whistling through a large hole in the wall. He grabbed the paper and began reading the sloppy handwriting. Jaxx, we're sorry we left you like this. We believe you will be better off here. Our city has been consumed by the plague. We hear this city isn't that bad...