So Jax pulls up to this new spot, rent's stupid cheap, thinking he's finally catching a W. Landlord hits him with the "don't worry about that room" and bro just… lets it slide. Fast forward, the vibes get nasty—cold spots, footsteps, and a smell so foul it's personally offensive. He finally pops the lock and finds a body that's been marinating, and the fit? Same hoodie, same jeans. That's when it clicks: whatever's in that house didn't just move in. It moved him out.
