Cursing his internal alarm clock, Nakos padded down the hallway before the buttcrack of dawn, his sole focus to get coffee. Lots of coffee. Until his blood type was Folgers. Once a caffeine blast hit his system, he could better determine the cause for the tension in his neck and why the hell he woke in a zombie state. Not that he normally popped out of bed raring to go, but Hihcebe, he felt like he was crashing from a week-long bourbon bender.

Rubbing his eyes, he rounded the landing, ...