"He wants to make people suffer, Jack. Suffer for their fun. They're the ones that want it, that's why he has to stay stuck in a suit for eight hours a week. They brought this on him," Gene reasoned on the creatures behalf. He could see it all, he found understand it. And he wished he could empathise but -- well, Gene was not exactly Mister Empathy. He had two modes at best. Shoot or not shoot.

It had been a horrible death, Gene had to admit. All that heat and sickness, all boiling over till he keeled over and suffocated inside the giant bear costume. No one noticed for over a week and by then, well, he'd rotted into the suit. They were one.

And he made everyone suffer. His bosses, the other staff, the children and the adults. Oh God, that hit him as well. The people. The war and gas masks, everyone hiding in the dark. It was too easy.

The whole thing made him feel sick.

"Jack, kill it. Kill the bastard. He's not worth saving."

Gene got to make that call. He didn't care that Jack or this Doctor guy would say. He knew an evil spirit when he saw one.