The pale, dark haired man was nothing but a memory now, a shadow left behind from the atrocity of the failed Camp Kennedy. This room seemed to be cluttered, with weapons. 'Weapons' in it's broadest term possible. It had things from what looked like cattle prods, to full blown M16 rifles. Aron's gaze fell upon a suit of Kevlar, which was on display next to a bronze cuirass. Bullets, arrows, bolts, and knives were scattered across tables, like a timeline of weapons throughout history. An M72 leans against a wall, beside a huge lance, and small vials, the size and shape of grenades.
The room as a whole looked messy and unorganized, but seemingly untouched by man and the elements for quite some time... There were blue flickering lights lining the ceiling, casting the room in a ghastly light. Aron approached a small pedestal, with a hammer on it, not too different than her own. The head was bigger, and more rectangular, with a much shorter handle, only long enough to be wielded by one hand. Aron reached out to grip its handle, but as she wrapped her fingers around the handle, and electricity arced onto her hand like a tiny lighting bolt, electricity pulsed through her body, and she jumped, nearly touching the ceiling.
"Yeowch!" She exclaimed, jumping back, rubbing her hand, her hair standing on end. "It shocked me!" She said, dropping her own hammer.