The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dead, bloated fish are scattered across the blood-stained floor of a rusted, industrial slaughterhouse, sunlight streaming in through grimy skylights, casting a pale, midday glow. Uh, the air's thick with the stench of rot and decay, and a few wisps of cobwebs cling to the slaughterhouse equipment. Severed cattle heads are somehow steadily reattaching themselves to the conveyor belts, moving back through the processing lines to merge with other, matching carcasses, as a constant, high-pressure hiss of hydraulic equipment echoes through the facility.