It was an otherwise typical night at the Blackdog road.
It was midnight. The air was still.
Startlingly still, but charged with an energy never before felt by human skin.
Then suddenly the clouds rolled in.
Thick and fast, dark and ominous. Evil.
They blanketed the night sky, and snuffed out the pathetic light the lonely moon futilely attempted to reflect down the Earth, the river, and the Blackdog road.
From these clouds the electrical storm began.
Lightning touched down. Blue and mysterious, and the animals and other woodland creatures scattered to shelter.
This was no ordinary storm, and the animal instinct buried deep within their souls knew it.
The strange lightning seemed to congregate in one area, and it shone brighter with each passing second. The wind was furious and angry, howling with an untamed passion, tearing branches from the mighty oaks nearby.
And then, even more suddenly than it had began, the storm ended.
It had lasted less than 14 minutes.
The cloud were gone, and the night was still, but the storm had left something.
There, where the lightning had all kissed the earth, was a figure.
The figure of a man.
The figure began to move, slowly at first. Unfurling slowly from the fetal position on the black tar of the road. He was naked, and that dull light from the sullen moon cast shadows from his tightly muscled body onto the road.
He was a machine. Perhaps from the future. Perhaps from elsewhere in the Universe.
He was here to kill Blackdog road.
He is Sexy Adam.