Old Joseph "Moonshine" Clark was sitting in his tattered wooden rocking chair facing the door, sleeping. The beer he'd downed an hour previously was good stuff and he was sleeping it off. He awoke suddenly. There was a scratch at the door. Then another scratch. And then the house erupted in nails-on-chalkboard scratching sounds, all over the place. As the symphony of scratching grew louder and louder, Moonshine shivered. Adding to the terrible noises was a new, more heart-wrenching sound- the plaintative crying of a baby. Moonshine groaned. He'd known somehow that they'd do this, try to drive him mad with these sounds that unleashed terrible memories. The door began to shake and the crying and the scratching grew louder- Moonshine heard childish, malicious whispering throughout his little cabin as well. Preparing himself, he raised the shotgun at the door, fingers shaking. Suddenly, the door broke off from its hinges and flew towards Moonshine in his rocking chair. The chair snapped and Moonshine was clobbered by the door, propelled into the wall behind him. He couldn't see anything because of the door on top of him, but Moonshine heard more than enough. The childish voices whispered, "Yesssss, yesssss, we've got you now. N0 esssscape for you. No essscape now." Where was his shotgun? Moonshine remembered suddenly that it was far out of reach across the room. He closed his eyes as he felt little fingers grasp his feet and begin to drag him, door and all, towards the door. As he felt the cold ground of the marshes on his back, Moonshine sobbed. The marsh was suddenly all around him and as he began to black out, Moonshine heard a commotion around him, along with a blinding light. The voices were screaming suddenly, and there was a masculine voice yelling from behind him, "Leave him!" The voice took on a rather cocky tone. "After all, you'll have enough trouble getting me down." The creatures were in agony, that much was clear. "Don't like the vortex particles, do you, you little creeps?" the voice said, evidently enjoying their misery. Moonshine felt the fingers leave his feet and the screaming around him suddenly cut out. Moonshine felt the door being lifted off him and he was looking into the face of his rescuer. The man was tall and skinny, with cold eyes and dark hair. He would have been quite ordinary if not for the large scar running down his cheek in a zig-zag. "Doctor Jacob Holland,a at your service," the man said with a smile. "Quite some pests, those imps. Very cruel if left to their own devices. These guys were about to drown you in the marsh, you know. Sadly, can't have you remembering this little incident. Don't worry, they won't bother you again." He removed a syringe from his pocket. "Have a nice, normal life, buddy." The man bent down and plunged the syringe into Moonshine's arm. Moonshine's head hurt and everything went black.