A cloud of acrid yellow smoke erupted from Dr. Crane's sleeve and billowed out into Eames' face. A split second later, Crane whirled and threw glass vials at the concrete floor. Splinters of glass scattered to every corner of the room and thick clouds of fumes sprouted into wispy trees from each site.

Eames immediately began to scream and sank to his knees, rubbing his eyes with his palms like he could somehow wipe away all of the gas. "What the fuck?!" he managed to shout in between his cries. Arthur and Cobb both brought their guns to bear on Crane, but the doctor had ducked behind Alfred. For one split second, Alfred saw a fury in Cobb's eyes that he'd never seen before. A fury that might cause a man to shoot through a human shield. But then Crane was gone, scampering off through the ever-thickening smoke and out into the hallway that he'd come through. Arthur fired a spray of bullets after him, more out of frustration than any realistic chance of hitting him.

Cobb rushed over to Eames, who was now clutching at his throat. "I can't breathe," he managed to rasp as tears squeezed through his clenched eyelids and rolled down his cheeks. "For fucks sake, I can't breathe!"

"Relax." Cobb dropped his gun, knelt down next to Eames and put an arm over his shoulder. "Just relax. Remember where you are. This is just a dream. You're gonna be fine."

Eames opened his eyes and turned towards Cobb. The look of pain and fear dissolved, giving way to utter horror. "Fucking CHRIST!" he shouted, still raspy and hoarse. "Jesus fucking Christ, what are you?" He tried to get away from Cobb as quickly as possible, which is difficult from a kneeling position. Instead, he slipped on the smooth tile floor and face-planted right into one of the cinderblock walls. He was so focused on getting away from Cobb that he didn't even seem to notice the gash across his forehead.

"Eames, take it easy," Arthur said. "It's just us, OK?"

Eames remembered that Arthur and Alfred were there for the first time. His eyes darted wildly between them, then down to Cobb still kneeling on the floor. The smoke from whatever Dr. Crane had broken on the floor was now so thick that it was getting hard to see each other. "Jesus fucking Christ. Get the fuck away from me, all of you!"

Arthur took a step forward, but Eames grabbed the gun that was still slung over his shoulder. He aimed it at Arthur first, then swung it toward Alfred and Cobb. His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, and Alfred could see that they were bloodshot. And maybe it was just the smoke, but the blood vessels looked black instead of red.

"You all just stay the hell away from me," Eames growled. His voice had become an animalistic snarl, more wolf than human. As he spoke, Alfred found himself strangely fascinated by Eames's teeth. They were long fangs, razor-sharp and stained slightly pink, darker red in some spots. How had he never noticed that before? Alfred took a step back towards Arthur, expecting Eames to just lunge out and snap at his neck at any moment. Thankfully Arthur still had his gun out and at the ready.

"What should we do?" Alfred whispered to Arthur as Eames began to back away, never taking his softball-sized eyes off of them. Eames's short stubble beard now seemed full and scraggly, like a mountain man, and Alfred swore he saw something wriggling around underneath all the hair.

Arthur turned toward Alfred, then stumbled backwards in shock. "Fucker!" he shouted as his foot collided with the broken remains of a gurney and nearly sent him toppling over. He used one hand to steady himself against a wall while the other held the gun barrel pointed straight at Alfred's face. "Get the fuck away from me!" At the same time, Alfred realized that Arthur's skin was literally rotting off of his bones, with long strips of decayed flesh swaying with each movement. Maggots swarmed over the muscle and guts underneath, and a few dripped out of Arthur's wounds and onto the floor where they wriggled and squirmed.

Alfred backed into a corner, and Arthur did the same. While those two were distracted, Eames took the opportunity to dash away down the hall where Dr. Crane had disappeared. Cobb, turning to look at Alfred and Arthur, found his own corner and raised his own gun. "What did you fuckers do with Arthur?" Cobb shouted at them. Cobb's eyes were glowing red and that his skin was cracked and broken with angry red underneath, as though his entire body were full of magma. Arthur noticed Cobb's transformation too and swung his gun from pointing at Alfred over to Cobb.

Alfred wasn't sure which one of them shot first. The flashes from their gun barrels were like lightning coursing through clouds, with no way to tell where it was coming from. Bullets buried themselves into walls and the deafening gunshots reverberated endlessly off of the cinderblocks. The smoke in the room from Crane's potions and from the gunfire was so thick now that Alfred could (thankfully) only see silhouettes of the other two men. And he hoped that they could barely see him too. He saw his one opportunity to escape, and he took it. Alfred lowered his head and ran through the door that they'd entered through, back into the atrium of the Asylum.

Monsters and demons were hiding in every shadow and behind every object. Alfred ran and ran, down some hall that led to who knows where. He didn't really care where he was going as long as he got away from those awful horrible things that he'd left behind him. But each new room presented new awful horrors. His lungs ached and screamed, and he gasped for air even as he tried to run faster. Over the intercom, that chilling cackle filled his mind. It was impossibly loud, louder than if the Joker were screaming it right into his ears. Alfred gasped for breath and sank to his knees, vision swimming as creatures loomed out of their dark hiding places to grab with him with long claws.

"Now, we'll have some real fun," the Joker giggled through the intercom. That was the last thing Alfred heard before he passed out.