Dark, but not too dark.

"Son of a bitch." She muttered as she got out of her car. She had tried to get it to work for the last ten minutes, but it was no use. Her car wasn't going to be going anywhere in the near-term.

She had been driving down a back road, a bit off of her beaten path but not too far off and as she was driving a deer had run out in front of her. She had just missed it, but in doing so she had taken her car off of the road and down an embankment. Lucky for her she hadn't hit a tree, but she heard scraping under her car and when she tried to get back onto the main road she had gotten no further than a clearing and a dirt path before her car stopped working.

Luckily for her there was still decent phone service out here and knew right where she was. The problem would be getting to a spot where she could direct the tow truck.

She cursed her luck on that. She had no idea where would actually have to drive to get her truck. So, she figured the dirt path was her best bet. She checked her phone and it did seem to lead to a nearby road.

She started to walk, glad it was at least a decent day outside. Rain or cold would have made this a miserable experience, or more miserable than what it currently was. She was about five minutes away from her car when she saw a couple of double-wide trailers and one smaller mobile camper beside the dirt path. Realizing she was probably on private property, she figured she'd need their permission to bring that tow truck through to get her car. She walked up to the first double-wide and knocked. The door opened and a man in a lab coat stood there. Her scream was never heard past that clearing.

It wasn't long after that Milton was finally up and moving. Despite the pain all through his neck, he felt amazing. Giving his breasts a quick feel through the low-cut sweater, he got up, swinging those cute legs off of the operating table and onto the floor. He walked past his old body, her head now stitched onto it, her eyes still closed, her breathing shallow but regular.

So, she did survive it, he thought. Good. He and his his associates were no saints, but they were no killers eithers. He walked past one of those associates who was busy cleaning up and Milton opened the door walking outside to the mobile camper, enjoying how the breeze and the sun felt on his younger, womanly body. He looked inside of the camper, and, satisfied that the mobile operating room was coming along nicely, walked away.

He had grabbed her purse, which she had with her when she had the misfortunate to knock on their lab door, and he looked through it. Erin Morgan, female, twenty-nine. He smiled darkly at that. Not anymore.