Phil was laying face down in the grass completely knocked out. He was having an odd dream. Blood all over the walls of a house. Disfigured faces around him. Screaming voices, one of a girl yelling at him to run. Then more screaming that could not be distinguished. There was more and more. Finally, Phil opened his eyes and realized the screaming was coming from his surroundings. Phil grunted. "Where am I" he asked himself rolling onto his back. His head was pounding with blood. He felt the back of his head and sure enough there was a bump, a big one, on the back of his head. "What a banal way of subduing someone." Phil said in a mutter. He tried to remember what had happen to him, yet no epiphany came to him. He knew his name and the face of a girl imprinted into his mind. His life was an enigma to him.
 
Phil had no intention of greeting the other people he noticed that were bickering and yelling. "They are all terrified" Phil observed. He closed his eyes hoping to get the pounding in his head to go away, but nevertheless it persisted to annoy him. The people yelling sure weren't helping. "Whatever..." Phil grunted pulling himself up into a sitting position. One person was attempting to bring control to the situation. "Christ...I am expected to work with people." Phil thought. "Hmph" Phil grunted at the words of introducing himself to everyone. "I guess I hate working with others." Phil inferred, "I don't have a problem with it I rather do it alone I guess." He might as well. "Phil Dawson." His voice was surly and a bit unfriendly. "I have no clue what I did in life. I don't remember a thing except my name." Phil chose to exclude the face of that girl, since nobody there reminded him of her. "Whatever...." Phil finished with. He still refused to get off the ground. He sort of glared at the people around him. The girl who refused to give her name seemed untrustworthy and especially had trust issues with everyone else. "Good choice, probably." Phil thought. "Can't rely on anyone."